


Copy-Cat

by jackiestolz



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Achievement Hunter Heists, GTA AU, Hacker Gavin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-05-28 14:33:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 74,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6332869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackiestolz/pseuds/jackiestolz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I think Jeremy’s place in the Fake AH Crew is the conman, the forger. The way he gets into the crew is he tries to pull a heist.  As all of them.  On the phone’s not too bad.  In person is a bit trickier."<br/>Jeremy is just a petty thief with an infatuation for a certain gang of notorious killers. But his days as a simple low-level criminal are about to end, and soon enough he'll be planning the heist to end all heists -- all for his heroes in the Fake AH Crew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So the wonderful michelle-2ls.tumblr.com posted an amazing headcanon (that's her quote in the summary) that Jeremy got in through forgery and impersonation, based on his portrayals of everyone at RT in his old Epic Rap Battles series. I asked permission and wrote a story based on it! I hope you guys enjoy, leave me a comment or check out michelle's blog if you do :)

There’d been a copy-cat or two before. Always were in Los Santos. Ryan’s mask was too easy to come by, and kids would take advantage of that in all their muggings and convenience store hold-ups. But the notorious Vagabond strung a guy up by the ankles from the bridge on La Puerta Freeway, and for awhile, no one dared copy him again.

Then some random girl from an up and comer gang, some not-quite-allies called Funhaus, impersonated Barb from Rooster Teeth; walked into a meeting, smiled all nice, gave a guy a shotgun to the gut. After that, the gang made sure to look out for impersonators, which is why they weren’t surprised about a month later by a man wandering around town with a fake red beard. Bruce Greene from the same gang, and when the Fake AH Crew met up at the marina to sabotage Greene’s plans -- make enemies for the enemy with a few tons of explosives, so it seemed -- Geoff was laughing too hard to execute him.

(“A fat suit! He wore a fat suit!” Geoff screamed as Greene stood there awkwardly, then eventually helped Geoff off the floor.)

Funhaus learned their lesson, and the two groups formed a wary peace, and there hadn’t been another incident of a copy-cat since. This wasn’t all general knowledge, not even very public knowledge, but Jeremy knew about every single detail of it. Fanboys generally tended to keep up on their idols, though they were usually looking up to musicians or movie stars. But his obsession, well, it was different.

 

* * *

 

“How’d you get this number?” A terse voice asked as the dial tone ended.

“You really don’t trust any random calls, do you?” He returned with a smirk, and he heard a huff of laughter from the other end of the line. “That’s some paranoid shit, Heyman.”

“Michael. What can I do for ya?” Joel asked in a tone of recognition. Holy fuck, it worked.

Jeremy grinned to himself, then pinched his nose, made sure his voice was a little less throaty than usual, and spoke again.

“Heard you were looking for a mercenary for that Pacific Standard job.” ‘Michael’ replied.

“Yeah, you got a recommendation?” Joel asked as something clinked in the background -- gold coins? Jesus Christ, the man was exactly what he was rumored to be.

“Actually, myself.” Jeremy said. “Under the radar, Geoff hates when I take outside jobs.”

“So why are you taking one?” Joel asked.

“I keep spending my paycheck on bikes and trucks.” Jeremy lied easily. “Lindsay and I need a new place though, so I figure I should do some job hunting.”

“You should save up.” Joel noted dryly. “But I’m sensing there’s a rush -- you finally get her pregnant?”

“Dude, shut up.” Jeremy answered, because he had no clue if Lindsay was pregnant or not. In fact, he was pretty fucking lucky that Joel was filling in the blanks for him instead of asking questions.

“What, a guy can’t wonder?” He asked, and Jeremy gave him a warning groan.

“A guy can worry about his own damn business.” He replied, but didn’t deny it. It was a good cover story, after all.

“Alright, alright.” Joel relented, though Jeremy could sense his smirk. “But you’re not taking the bank’s cash, that’s my number one rule, don’t take a cent. Burn it all, burn the whole damn thing.”

“Someone’s got a grudge.” Jeremy remarked. “But fine. Half my payment before, half after, okay?”

“Sure thing. All in gold, usual drop spot.” Joel said, and Jeremy groaned. “Oh come on, why do you guys get so annoyed when I try to pay in gold bars?”

“Because they’re fucking heavy.” Jeremy huffed, and he could hear the other man chuckle, clearly pleased with himself.

“Well enjoy the workout. Drop tomorrow at five a.m.” Joel said, and Jeremy nodded to himself.

“Okay. Just remember, not a word to Geoff.” Jeremy said quickly, because that was the important part.

“‘Course. Congrats on the baby.” Joel said and hung up. Jeremy did the same, and cleared his throat.

He should’ve thought about getting paid in gold bars, god damnit. If Joel realized he wasn’t paying Michael to do this job, those gold bars would be too damn easy to track. Not that he thought Joel would mention it to Geoff, because then he’d be in the middle of drama he didn’t want to be involved in, and that’s definitely not Joel’s style. Geoff of course would ask Michael, and Michael would realize that someone was out there taking a job in his name.

But he needed the cash to buy the explosives, and he needed the explosives to pull off the heist. The cosplay of a lifetime, a LARP like no other; Jeremy was going to pull off an entire heist as the whole AH Crew.

 

* * *

 

He didn’t know where Joel usually hid his cash for Michael, but it didn’t matter -- it just became a new fun fact to learn. Someone who worked closely with his favorite gang, of course he was fascinated. And of all the buildings that the RT Crime Syndicate operated out of, Jeremy was right in assuming Joel would be in the Maze Bank Tower. Not that Rooster Teeth owned the company, they just had the right people in the right places. Spies, hackers, those trained in espionage, and their crew’s accountant, one Joel Heyman.

Speaking of which. He exited the building at the end of the day, and Jeremy, sat in a nondescript (stolen) car, tailed Joel’s pricy Banshee back to a high-end apartment complex, and sat patiently outside the place. He slept a few hours in the backseat, but got up at four and sipped a Red Bull as he waited for that infamous early-bird to get going.

Soon enough, Joel’s car pulled out from the parking garage, and Jeremy tailed him expertly from a distance. When he first entered the life of crime, he thought that was his special skill, tailing, and he certainly used it a few times just to take a look at his favorite crew. He once followed the AH Dubsta for three miles before someone threw a grenade out the passenger window at him -- that incurred a hefty bit of fan-boying once the smoke had cleared and he’d driven off.

Obviously, though, that wasn’t his real talent. The day he made a drug dealer laugh at an Arnold Schwarzenegger impression was the day he thought to himself, _hey, I can pull off a fucking accent. Actually, I could voice anyone I wanted to_. After that, he spent awhile mimicking cops, moved up to prank phone calls from low-level gang members, and eventually saw some news clips and listened to some police scans and started rolling out the AH impersonations.

He shook himself from his thoughts and kept his eyes on the Banshee, and followed Joel’s car to an alley a few miles away. Heparked around the block, then climbed out and rushed over to watch Joel grab a blue duffel from his trunk with incredible ease. Damn, if that was the gold then Joel clearly got some strength in whatever deal he made for eternal youth. 

He watched the other man stuff the bag under the dumpster, and when he drove off, Jeremy waited until he was out of sight, then rushed over and pulled the bag out from beneath the smelly garbage. It was heavy, alright, and he bore a wide grin as he returned to the car.

He threw it on the passenger’s seat and unzipped it to see a folded piece of paper. He picked it up and grinned further at the shine of gold that resided beneath it, then unfolded it and scanned the poorly-written words.

_Michael -- thanks for the help. You have a week. Kill everyone inside and torch the place. Final payment, same spot. If it’s a boy you should really consider naming him after me -- Joel._

Nice. Though whether he would actually do the job was up in the air; he’d rather just rob the bank and get the rest of his funds that way, but he didn’t want Joel to catch on. But until he made that decision, he had some wig shopping to do.

 

* * *

 

The sun had already set when he met his contact at the construction zone. His thrift-store leather jacket creaked with every movement, and he couldn’t get why Michael wore one so often. The curls were distracting too, stuffed into his beanie but still bouncing ever so slightly on his forehead. 

“Jones.” A voice sounded out in the distance, and Jeremy turned to observe the figure and knew that the rim of his glasses glinted momentarily in the moonlight, catching on his newly shaved chin.

“Luna.” He said with some difficulty, as he couldn’t hold his nose between his fingers in person.

“I’ve got what you asked for.” Luna said, but didn’t procure any sort of box. He shuffled his feet, and Jeremy was suddenly on edge.

“Well? Where is it?” He asked, and stiffened up a bit in warning. It was admittedly difficult to feel threatening in four inch heels, but hopefully Miles wouldn’t spot those.

“Ordering weaponry without the crew? It’s fishy.” Miles said. “I just wanna make sure everything’s on the up and up.”

Jeremy paused for a fraction of a second, then looked around to see if he could spot Miles’ well known partner anywhere nearby. He wasn’t keen on being jumped or having Kerry figure things out, but he saw no dragon mask in sight, and turned back to Luna.

“I needed cash, I’m doing a job for Joel.” He said eventually. “Can you two keep that shit quiet?”

“Fine.” Miles nodded curtly. “But you should use some of that cash to get a haircut. Those curls are getting out of control.”

“You said it.” A shorter man donned in a black dragon mask stepped out from behind Luna and tossed the bag at Jeremy’s feet.

“Kerry.” Jeremy noted dryly as he grabbed the bag and unzipped it. C4, sticky bombs, everything he needed, though not for Joel’s case. No, he was going to use these for something just a bit . . . bigger.

He tossed his own bag to Luna, and he caught it with a noise of displeasure.

“That proves you’re working for Joel.” He grimaced at the weight of the gold bar as he handed it over to Kerry. “We’ll keep quiet on your shit with him.”

“Appreciate it.” Jeremy answered, and the pair began to step away.

“Seriously, haircut!” Kerry called over his shoulder, and Jeremy threw out the fake laugh he’d spent weeks perfecting. A hearty chuckle, hint of a growl, still with Michael’s slightly nasal tone. The pair laughed themselves, and Jeremy felt his heart leap.

These people were buying it. People who knew Michael and had met him on multiple occasions were eating it up! Jeremy was way more talented than he thought, and he had to resist pumping his fist in the air as he walked away and barely avoided a stumble in his platforms. The plan was working better than he ever could have hoped.

 

* * *

 

He spent much of the next day sat in his bath tub in his boxers and an undershirt, a red wig in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other. He trimmed it down while contemplating the bank robbery. Well, not a robbery. Joel clearly had a grudge over some form of mismanaged funds, and he didn’t want any of the cash that resided in the vault. He wanted revenge, he wanted the bankers to watch their money burn, and he would certainly find out one way or the other if Jeremy stole any of that cash.

Not that he’d suspect Michael of that. But he had eyes everywhere, and though Jeremy knew Joel wouldn’t waste time monitoring a man he trusted, he would know if cash got into his pockets. So clearly he had to do it legitimately. And do it in broad daylight, which made things pretty goddamn difficult.

He made a mental list of his weapons. Some guns for the killing, a few smoke grenades, and some bombs, but he needed those for his own work. So he had to start the fire by other means. At least he could use the smoke bombs for cover, then use the actual smoke from the fire to keep up the pretense. But disguising as another guy in broad daylight in the form of a cheap wig and platform heels would not be the easiest of tasks, god help him.

Once satisfied with the wig, he stood up, rinsed out the tub, and went into the impossibly tiny bedroom to his little apartment. He pulled the platforms out from beneath his bed, put them on, and paced the room patiently.

“RDJ wore these all the time for Iron Man.” Jeremy reminded himself through gritted teeth. “So you can do it for an arson.”

Now he just had to figure out how to get that flame started.

 

* * *

 

Stealing a RON tanker wasn’t the most sophisticated of plans, but it would do the job, and do it well. Of course, the stupid building was made of stone, so he couldn’t do the convenient thing and bust the truck right through the door, but he could park in front and drag the hose in.

He pulled up in the early morning, inconspicuous at first, then pulled the hose to the front door, went back, and flipped the lever. Then he ran back, his platforms clicking on the concrete, grabbed the gushing hose, and hauled it through the large mahogany doors. He very briefly wondered if he looked as ridiculous as he felt, some guy dragging a hose around in high heels, but focused on the task at hand. Before anyone could turn to look at him, he threw a canister of tear gas on the floor, and through the smoke, the screams began.

He grabbed his semi-automatic and blasted into the building, and though there weren’t many people inside, bodies began to fall. He shuffled forward a bit, aware that the sound of his heels would be obvious on the marble floors.

“It’s Mogar!” Someone yelled, and Jeremy smirked. He threw another tear gas down and rushed to the teller’s windows.

“Take me to the vault and nobody gets hurt!” He yelled in Michael’s voice, and a shaken teller rushed to open the gates.

He pressed a gun to the man’s head and pushed him forward to the stairs. It seemed he was the only one not overly disoriented by the tear gas, and Jeremy felt confident that the alarm wouldn’t be triggered until it was too late for any of them. They bounded down the steps, he a bit wobbly in his platforms, and Jeremy was quick to push his gun against the back of the man’s neck as he typed in the password to open the vault.

Once inside, Jeremy kept his gun trained on the man and unhooked a gas can from his belt.

“I don’t understand, we gave you your payment!” The man said, his hands held high and shaking with terror. 

Jeremy didn’t respond as he poured the gasoline all over the bundles of cash, but he saw the teller tilt his head from the corner of his eye.

“Wait. Who are you?” The teller asked, and without a word Jeremy sighed, turned, and shot him in the head. Five feet away in a well-lit room wasn’t the worst discovery to be had, he wouldn’t chastise himself for that. As long as there were no cameras around to hear it.

He struck a match far away from himself, his jeans coated in gasoline, and dropped it, then ran back to the main hall, where the tear gas had worn off and the small group of those left alive were clearly panicking, but staying in position. They knew Mogar was there, so they didn’t dare move when he exited in fear that the rest of the AH Crew were with him as well, lingering in the shadows.

Jeremy rushed to the door without looking at any of them, jumped over the hose, lit another match, then dropped it. From the sudden screams as he ran into the distance, he knew the whole place was aflame. He felt heat on his back as a boom sounded out, and knew instantly that the tanker had exploded, but by then he was at the other end of the street. He busted into the nearest car and heard sirens in the distance, but smirked with the knowledge that he’d get away with it.

As he climbed in, satisfied, he kicked off his heels and took off. It was a job well done, and he was excited to get the rest of his cash and continue moving forward. He had a long way to go, but he took each step in stride knowing that he was getting closer to his goal. He would pull off the heist to end all heists, and he’d do it as his heroes. Oh what fun this would be.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey fuckface.”

Michael, the real Michael, turned in his chair to see Geoff storm into the room. He approached the conference desk and threw down a manila folder, a file, with an extreme force that only revealed his rage. The rest of the crew had their brows raised, but said nothing as Geoff fumed.

“You’re supposed to get clearance before you take other jobs.” Geoff spat, and now it was Michael’s turn to raise his brow, though for him, it was all surprise.

“I didn’t take another job, Geoff.” He said carefully as his boss stared him down and the others stared at him, mouths hung open. “I don’t know who told you that --”

“Nobody had to tell me shit.” Geoff slammed his fist down, and Gavin leapt up in surprise. “Officer Sorola sent me all the surveillance footage I needed.”

“Oh shit, they got you on camera.” Ray said, maybe in attempt to ease the tension, but Jack glared at him, and he shrunk in his seat.

Geoff pointed a remote with hands that shook with anger and turned on the monitor behind him. He looked really pissed, and was turning a nasty shade of red that Michael was a little bit scared of.

“Pacific Standard Bank.” Jack said as the screen lit up.

“And a RON tanker.” Gavin added. “‘Until the last drop!’”

“And that’s you.” Geoff pointed the screen, and Michael felt his eyes go as wide as saucers. A man hopped out of the driver’s seat and started lugging the hose to the front doors of the building, a man with curly auburn hair sticking out of a beanie.

“Holy shit.” Michael swore. “Who the fuck--”

The scene changed. A jump ahead a few minutes, and the guy leapt over the hose that was now spurting gasoline all over the marble tile, lit a match, and took off. The group watched him run down the street for a moment, but then the RON tanker blew, and the feed ended abruptly.

“Michael!” Ryan yelped, a cross of shocked and impressed.

“That’s not me!” Michael exclaimed, but Geoff scoffed.

“Nah, that’s his clone.” Ray cracked.

“Come off it Michael, that’s totally you!” Gavin said, and Michael scowled.

“Where the hell were you this morning?” Geoff asked in an accusing tone.

“I was at home, I was with Lindsay!” Michael stammered at the realization that he didn’t have a true alibi, and Geoff folded his arms.

“So your only alibi is your wife.” Ryan said with one brow raised. “Not that she’s biased.”

“Man, Geoff’s probably just pissed because you didn’t let us in on this badassery.” Jack grinned and Ray snorted. “Seriously, a tank truck? Fucking A.”

“You could’ve just done it with stickies.” Gavin said. “But this is so much cooler!”

“‘Nobody move, this is a robbery!’” Ray yelled, then quickly hopped out of his seat to pretend he was holding a hose. Michael scowled and hid the tiny grin that was starting to form at the corner of his mouth.

“Alright, settle down!” Geoff yelled, and they fell silent quickly at his stern glances. “Michael, you’re not gonna get punished if you just give me the details.” He said. “Who hired you, huh?”

“Fuck, Geoff, I didn’t do this shit, this isn’t me, those are the fucking details.” Michael replied, his astonishment quickly rolling over into the territory of realization. “I think we have ourselves a copy-cat.”

“Funhaus.” Gavin recalled, then looked back to the screen with a studious expression. “Geoff, would you allow me to examine this?”

“Yeah!” Ray perked up. “Hack into some nearby cameras, get a facial from this guy.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jack mumbled and rested his face in his hands.

“Ray’s right.” Michael said, and gave Geoff a firm look. “We need to find out who this is. That’s my jacket, that’s my hair! This is no accident, this is someone ripping us off on purpose.”

Geoff gave him a thoughtful look, then a slight nod at last.

“Gavin, I’ll send you the links. There’s some printed screen grabs here.” He slid the file over to Michael. “Find me a discrepancy, find me some shit that doesn’t add up.”

“Trust me Geoff, no one’s taking my name and my look and getting away with it.” Michael nodded darkly. “We’re gonna find this son of a bitch.”

“Hey, that’s no way to talk about your long lost twin.” Ray said with a grin, and Michael huffed as he opened up the file.

Jesus. This guy was him, through and through. That beanie, that hair. The only profile picture caught a glare from his glasses, undoubtedly a perfect match, so that he couldn’t make out the shape of the guy’s face at all. He would be impressed if he weren’t so pissed over getting screamed at for something he didn’t do.

“It was you, wasn’t it.” Someone murmured, and he looked up to see Ryan leaned over in his direction.

“It wasn’t me.” Michael whispered his reply through clenched teeth, and Ryan smirked.

“Whatever you say.” He answered. “But there’s no chance that’s not you.”

Michael sighed and shook his head, but a part of him knew that if Ryan didn’t believe him, no outsider would. And the thought of some stranger dressed up as him with the world at his fingers was starting to irritate him. Who the hell knew what this guy was doing at that very moment?

 

* * *

 

“Yo, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want!” Jeremy belted out. “So tell me what you want, what you really, really want!”

He bounded up the stairs to his apartment, a package in hand, and as he closed the door, began to sing again.

“I really really really wanna zig-a-zig ah.” He set the package onto his bed and rifled through his sock drawer to find a grocery bag. “If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends.”

He plopped onto the bed and pulled the contents from the bag; small screwdrivers, pliers, and a few electronics he’d bought at a local tech store, including copper wires, an IR receiver, a 555 timer and a couple coin batteries and resistors. He grabbed a pair of scissors and opened his Amazon package to reveal a laser, and ripped open the package with excitement.

“Oh man, this is gonna be so sweet.” Jeremy practically squealed to himself as he pulled out a battery and touched it to the exposed wire of the laser. It glowed a brilliant red onto the wall, and Jeremy giggled. “Fucking wicked.”

He set the components down and organized all of his products, then leaned back thoughtfully, his expression gone stern and the song forgotten.

“I need a carrier frequency of 36 kilohertz.” Jeremy observed. “So I gotta mod my receiver to match that. Connect the 555 to generate the carrier signal, and that’s gonna send the signal to the receiver connected to the laser. Then I need a driver off my receiver’s output.”

He fiddled around with his wires a moment, then rested his chin on his hand and examined it again. Lucky for him, this is the sort of shit he’d be doing if he weren’t a criminal; physics and shop class had him interested in circuitry before one of his gymnastic buddies taught him how to pull off a proper convenience store robbery, and the adrenaline from that went far beyond the occasional shock he’d get from touching a misplaced wire.

“Use that driver to regulate my current. Then all I need to do is turn on my 555.” Jeremy popped some batteries into the timer. “And connect the wires to my carrier.”

He gently lifted the wires and touched them together with one circuit, and on the other, the laser lit up and bounced red light onto the wall. Jeremy grinned to himself.

“And that’s how you make a remote, motherfuckers.” He beamed, then grabbed the box the laser came in and pulled a switchblade from its hidden position in his shoe. 

He cut the box down, sliced up a rectangle, and punched a hole into it. Then he laid the circuit on top of the cardboard and taped it in with thin strips of duct tape. He picked up a toggle switch and fitted it through the small hole in the box, and connected the wires into either end of it. Then he folded the cardboard and taped it up and did the same to both ends, so he was holding a rectangle with a switch on it.

He grabbed the laser circuit and taped that down to a flat square of cardboard, then leaned back to examine his handiwork for a moment. Finally, he toggled the switch and the laser went on, then turned it off, and the light vanished. Then he walked to the other side of the room and flipped it once more, and it went on again. Perfect. A remote-control laser was exactly what he needed.

 

* * *

 

The gold was in the same spot under the dumpster, as promised, and as Jeremy retrieved the bars, he knew exactly what he would do with them. They bore no note this time, but if Joel was unsatisfied with the work, it would show, so he lugged it back into his car and drove off.

He didn’t notice a pair of watchful eyes in the distance.

 

* * *

 

Someone’s crooked in every field of work in Los Santos. You could pay off the guy who stocks vending machines, bribe a janitor, get a bad deal from your plumber. And as odd as it was to consider, there were more than a few dirty paramedics in this city. A meeting wasn’t too hard to make.

He decided not to go as Michael again, incase the AH Crew caught on and were telling people to be on the lookout. But no one’s on the lookout for the boss, no one’s dumb enough to distrust the word of Geoff Ramsey. 

He bought a suit and some even taller heels quite easily, though the facial hair was a bit harder. After careful thought, he finally decided that if the crew’s biggest fan couldn’t figure out what stage Geoff’s beard was in, neither would a near stranger, so he donned a glorious fake handlebar mustache and a dark pair of aviators.

They met at midnight in the back of a seedy little bar that the crew had robbed once before with a set of Liberator trucks and a metric fuckton of carnage (Jeremy still had the news clippings because holy fuck, it was cool). The moment Jeremy ordered and walked away from the bar, a hidden chunk of gold in one hand and a beer in the other, he knew exactly who he was meeting with, because he looked so wildly out of place. Too prim and proper, too clean for a gang joint.

“Blaine.” Jeremy said, his voice purposely hoarse. Blaine turned around and looked up to ‘Geoff’ in awe, and it was clear he’d never met the man in person, only worked with his connections in Rooster Teeth and maybe the other AH members if he was lucky.

“Mr. Ramsey, a pleasure to finally meet you.” Blaine stood and waited for Jeremy to sit. “I’m excited, you’ve never used my services before.”

“Never needed them.” Jeremy replied brusquely as Blaine sat down. He figured he should avoid getting close as to avoid blowing the con, even though he felt a little guilty doing that to what seemed to be a fellow fan -- any other day they’d swap stories, bring up forum drama, geek out over heists. “Show me what you got.”

Blaine nodded solemnly and pulled a duffel bag off the floor, then looked around carefully. Assured they were the only two looking, he zipped it open and revealed the machinery sat inside.

“The Hurst ‘Jaws of Life’ E-Draulic Combi Tool.” Blaine said in a hushed tone, though his adoration for the machine was made certain by the revere in his voice. “Small, portable, no wires. Cuts through steel like butter.”

Jeremy nodded. They were basically a very large, powerful pair of pliers, but they were exactly what he needed. He was grateful he could find someone with access to things the usual crowd is interested in -- the easily swiped ambulance meds, for starters -- but also had an interest in selling off whatever his sticky fingers found in police stations and fire trucks.

“The fire department has two.” Blaine continued. “This one’s absence shouldn’t be noticed for too long. How long did you say you wanted to rent it?”

“Maybe a week, maybe longer. We’ll see how things pan out.” Jeremy said.

“Why do you need it though?” Blaine asked, and Jeremy gave him a dark look. He shrunk back in his chair, and clearly hadn’t meant to pick a fight, but he was there to be tough!Geoff so damnit, he might as well commit.

“You know what we have in common, Blaine?” Jeremy asked him, but gave him no time to answer. “We’ve both seen a lot of fuckin’ people die. Really, huge numbers for us both. And it would be a real damn tragedy to add to my list, ya know?”

Blaine paled, and Jeremy was suddenly unsure of how much he could trust this guy when he was practically scared shitless. He sighed and decided to reel it back a little to ensure the idiot didn’t run off screaming to the cops.

“My crew and I drag race a lot.” Jeremy explained to him. “We’ve had too many close calls recently, so next time we do it, we’re gonna have this baby here as a backup.”

There was a hint of sympathy in the other man’s eyes, and he nodded slowly.

“Renting before buying?” He joked with a shaking voice, and Jeremy nodded. “Okay then. Call me in a week or so and we’ll schedule another meet-up.”

He moved to hand Jeremy the bag, and he held his hand up in alarm.

“Under the table.” He hissed. “Jesus, haven’t you ever done a deal?”

Blaine, however, was distracted by the hand Jeremy had held up, and looked down at it quizzically.

“Where -- where are your tattoos?” He asked. Fuck. Jeremy had to act fast. He gave him an angry expression because _let’s just fucking hope that’ll work_ , and when he saw the fear in Blaine’s eyes again, leaned in and grabbed him by the shirt collar.

“You idiot. Do you honestly think I’d just walk around in public without hiding my tattoos with make up?” He seethed. “Last time I was in this bar I killed thirty fuckin’ people, so you better believe I’m gonna be careful as dicks in here.”

Blaine was petrified into silence, and after a wordless moment, Jeremy threw him backwards into his chair. They passed their duffel bag and a gold bar wrapped in a T-shirt beneath the table, and Blaine attempted to gather himself.

“I’m so sorry, sir.” He whispered. “If there’s anything I can do--”

“You can shut the fuck up.” Jeremy said to him. “And get out of here, you stick out like a sore thumb about as much as you look like one.”

Blaine stood quickly and rushed out the door, and Jeremy leaned back, took a deep breath, and nursed his beer. He couldn’t believe he made a guy run out of a room by calling him a thumb; Geoff really should've appreciated all the power he has, because it was goddamn invigorating. He could stand to do this more often.

He looked down in his lap at the Jaws of Life in the bag, and had to hold back a smirk. Another step closer to this heist, albeit there was now another step added. He couldn’t just walk around without the tattoos, after all, they were the most unique visual aspect of Los Santos’ greatest crime boss. Well, time to take up painting.

 

* * *

 

“Geoff, before we get started I’d like to tackle our Pacific Standard situation.” Gavin said.

The conference room fell into silence as the group shifted glances between Michael and Geoff. Geoff’s expression had soured, and Michael’s had hardened as he stared his boss down, but neither said a word.

“Basically, the cameras all around the area were fucked.” Gavin began. “I couldn’t even tail a getaway car out of there.”

“So you’ve got nothing to say this isn’t Michael.” Geoff said, and before Michael could yell any sort of reply, Gavin shook his head.

“This ain’t Michael, that’s for sure.” He said as he stood up. He grabbed the remote to the monitor, and pulled up a grainy photo of ‘Michael’ running from the scene. He clicked a button, and the slide changed to a close-up of the criminal’s feet.

“I know it’s shit, I’ve done the best I could improving it.” Gavin said, and sat down again in front of his laptop. “But look at this.”

He selected a lime colored pen and drew an outline onto the image, and as the crew realized what he was drawing, their jaws dropped.

“This is a woman.” Gavin exclaimed, and pointed to the outline on the large screen.

“Heels.” Geoff said, aghast. The woman (or so they thought) was wearing high heels.

“I really hope that isn’t you.” Ray said to Michael after a moment, and he grinned.

“See!” Michael cheered at his newfound innocence, at least in this matter. “I told you!”

“I’m honestly surprised.” Ryan said with an impressed expression. “I really thought you were pulling a fast one.”

“I kinda believed that, too.” Jack added with a friendly chuckle. “Well, now what?”

Geoff looked at the screen a moment, then looked back to the table with a knitted brow. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then spoke up.

“This girl’s too white to be Mica, isn’t she.” He spoke to himself, and the group nodded. “She would be my top suspect, but okay. Gavin, you think you can get Meg to ask around?”

“How do we know it’s not Meg?” Jack asked, and Ryan stood and stared him down.

“It’s not Meg.” He said in a threatening tone, but Jack knew him well enough by now and shrugged him off.

“It’s a girl who can pull off an expert arson.” He countered. “Meg’s certainly a contender.”

“Look, I’m gonna trust her.” Geoff interrupted the pair. “Besides, I think Gavin would recognize her ass right off the bat.”

“Maybe he’s covering.” Ray said with narrowed eyes, and Gavin gave him a cross look.

“Arsehole.” Gavin spat. “I’m not dumb enough to lie to Geoff’s face. If it were her the two of us would be in hiding right now.”

“Both of you, shut up.” Geoff spoke over them again. “Gavin, I need an alibi from her, but I trust her enough to poke around and ask a few other ladies. I’ll ask Lindsay to do the same.”

“I’m not gonna ask Caiti to risk blowing her cover with the Australian network.” Jack said. “But if any of them are suspicious, I’ll let you know.”

“Fine.” Geoff said, and looked down at them all. “This shit is an official Priority. Mysterious ladies targeting us are the last thing we need right now.”

“For entirely unknown reasons, and using incredibly dangerous methods.” Ryan added. “No pressure.”

“Yeah.” Geoff said, and turned away, his brow knitted once more. “No fuckin’ pressure.”


	3. Chapter 3

Every good heist needed a Cargobob. There should always be a plane involved, that’s the bare fucking minimum, but a Cargobob just screamed fun, really. It had camo paint and a hook and everything.

And Jeremy really needed that damn hook.

Sandy Shores Airfield seemed like the best option; secluded enough to not cause a panic during his plane robbing, but still at a decent distance away from the general populace with a low enough response time from the cops to get away clean. Perfect for someone who’d never stolen a helicopter. Or someone who never flew a helicopter, but oh well, he watched a few Youtube videos and he’d have to suck it up and try his best.

A Jack Pattillo disguise would be the easiest one yet. Yeah, there’d be a pillow stuffed beneath his newly purchased Hawaiian shirt, no offense meant to him of course, it was just for accuracy’s sake. That with a red beard, a matching wig and the heels he wore to impersonate Michael. 

He waited until night to steal a car and drive it north, and when he got there, he was satisfied to find security minimal. He crept through the shadows of the air hangers, and spotted more than a few jets and seaplanes, but finally at the end of the runway spotted the Cargobob.

He assessed the situation; no cover in the run over to the thing, a guard on a roof and two within shooting distance on the ground. Not the best chances. He pulled the pistol from his belt and took aim for the one on the roof, then took a breath to steady his nerves. Just take the shot and run.

He pulled the trigger and watched the man fall over, then broke out into a sprint as he cleared the runway. The other guards were running towards him, their shouts ringing in his ears, and he saw a puff of dust as the dirt a meter away from him took a bullet aimed for his legs.

“Fucking shit!” Jeremy yelled eloquently, but he somehow managed to keep Jack’s intonation under control. Lilting, a little high-pitched in panic, less rasping than his own voice.

He got to the chopper and pulled the door open with as much strength as he could muster (which was a lot, he was pretty ripped underneath that fake beer belly), then hopped in and closed it immediately. He heard a few bullets ping against the exterior of the helicopter as it roared to life, but ignored them and focused on trying to fly the damn thing instead. He gripped the wheel and fumbled with the switches, then pulled back and watched in pleasant shock as it lifted off from the ground.

“Woohoo! Surprise motherfuckers!” ‘Jack’ yelled, and smiled wide as he really got some air.

He leaned the wheel and flew off into the night as the guards below screamed and swore, but didn’t follow. If they recognized Jack’s familiar call, they knew this mission was above their pay grade. Lucky for him.

He flew into the city and gained confidence every minute he held the wheel. The lights of those skyscrapers in the distance were so gorgeous from up above, and he understood perfectly why Jack enjoyed flying so much. The adrenaline and the vantage point seemed to fit with the man’s watch-dog methods and authoritative personality.

Landing proved to be a bit more difficult than he’d hoped. He was settling down in a tiny square patch of concrete nestled between four buildings, and was mostly just hoping he didn’t smash into the sides. But after hovering up and down for several lengthy minutes, he landed alright, and as he powered down, a light went on in the second-story window of the building in front of him. Perfect.

It was his first time switching from one crew member to another, but he did so with ease. He pulled off the wig and beard and tore off his Hawaiian shirt, then unrolled the sleeves of his plain black shirt.

(RTFanForum.net post by JDoolz:

“Vagabond’s new jacket discussion. What do you guys think? I prefer the old black and blue leather, personally.”

Reply by user AxialMatt:

“This one’s original. Unique. There can only be so many leather jackets in the criminal underworld.”

Reply by user TheSteffie:

“It was unique on Macklemore. But I don’t think the outfit is the part people tend to focus on when they meet him.”)

He took the black skull mask out from his back pocket and pulled it over his head. He hoped Steffie was right when she said nobody would be paying attention to the outfit; he didn’t have a bag or anything to carry a fur-trimmed coat in, so he just wore something inconspicuous and hoped for the best.

Jeremy rushed out of the helicopter and over to the back door of the building, then kicked it down quickly and rushed through the stock room and into the clothing store. Footsteps sounded above his head, and he looked around in a rush and saw a box behind the counter. He ran over and stood on it just as the owner of the shop rushed down the steps from her apartment above, a rifle in hand.

“What the hell is going on down--” She stopped dead in her tracks as she took in the sight of Jeremy towered over her, donned in that infamous black mask. Even in the dark, she visibly paled, and her hands instantly began to shake as the rifle slipped from her grip and fell lamely to the ground.

“Hello.” Jeremy said, his voice deep. He’d once heard a leaked meeting between the gang and Burnie, well worth the money he bribed a cop with, as it was probably the best learning tool he’d ever gotten on their casual lives. Amongst other things, he discovered that the Vagabond was just some dork named Ryan with a voice that spilled affection -- far different from the deep and haunting vocals of his masked alter-ego. But Jeremy was doing business, and Vagabond would never sound so charming in his work, so he held the dark tone.

“What’s your name?” He asked her, though it was clearly more of a demand.

“Kara.” She answered in a small voice.

“You own this store.” He stated, and she nodded. “Good. I’m going to hide a helicopter behind it for awhile.”

She stared at him in a mixture of fear and confusion, and he remained still, a terrible figure looming in the darkness.

“You won’t go to the police, and I won’t kill you.” He explained to her, and she nodded tensely. “You’ll keep the back door unlocked during business hours so my associates can walk through the building.”

She didn’t seem very thrilled at the thought of a dangerous gang walking in and out of her store at random, but she kept that concern under a layer of terror and bewilderment.

“You won’t attempt to stop anyone. You won’t help your neighboring store owners when the time comes.” Jeremy continued. “And you won’t get caught. Are we clear?”

She nodded quickly, and he smirked to himself.

“Go to bed now.” He commanded, and she took a step back towards the stairs. She glanced down at the gun a moment, then thankfully seemed to think better of it, (Jeremy, despite being a bad guy, had no intention of killing her as long as she played by the rules) and bounded up the stairs.

He actually had to take a moment to resist a giggle; it was pretty fun pretending to be insanely evil, he understood why Vagabond did so. That, and well, he just felt cool as all shit in that mask. When he was sure she was gone, he stepped off the box, now over a foot shorter than who he’d just pretended to be, and slid the mask back into his pocket and rushed out the front door, out onto Portola Drive.

 

* * *

 

Another day, another conference. So is the life of an organized crime group. Geoff stepped in and looked around to his gang, who sat patiently with the knowledge that their first subject was also the most frustrating.

“I see there’s an addition to our meeting.” Geoff said to the group and started that first topic right away, and their addition stood up from her chair.

“You asked me to look into the woman who played dress-up as my husband.” Lindsay said, and Michael looked stern beside her.

“If you kill thirty people, does it still count as dress up?” Ryan asked, and Jack smirked.

“Forty-two.” She corrected him grimly. “Every single person in the bank. I checked the area for witnesses, no one got a real look at her. We’re dealing with a ghost.”

Geoff sighed deeply, then looked to Gavin.

“Meg says the same.” He added, his head hung.

“No suspicious activity from the Australians.” Jack said as well, and Geoff knitted his brow as he took a moment to think.

“Well, sometimes no news is good news.” Ray said logically, then shrugged. “She hasn’t attacked anyone as Michael since the bank, we’re not hearing anyone get suspicious, so maybe she’s done.”

“But why?” Jack asked, and Ray shrugged again. “Why go through all this trouble, why put on a disguise and torch a place?”

“Practice.” Ryan said darkly. “I did it in a white skull mask, and then I moved on to the real business in the black one. She’s not done with him yet.”

“That’s one theory.” Lindsay stepped in. “But I had another.”

“Well spit it out.” Geoff demanded, and she nodded keenly.

“Someone was looking to hire a high-end guy to pay high-end. Someone lower on the ladder stepped in.” Lindsay explained. “Of course, that would mean it’s not a woman.”

“Why not?” Gavin asked, and she gave him an obvious look.

“There’s plenty of powerful ladies in this town to impersonate. Why not pick Ashley or Mariel? Why act like my husband when you could be _me_?” Lindsay asked, and Geoff looked thoughtful.

“That’s true, my wife’s a badass.” Michael cut in, and she smiled fondly. “But it’s definitely a woman, so she’s also utterly incorrect in every conceivable way.”

“Lindsay’s on the right track.” Geoff declared, and everyone turned to look at him. “We need to sniff around and find out if this chick was hired or what. Find out if the bank has any enemies. If we can’t find her, we’ll be lead to her.”

“I’ll do it.” Lindsay volunteered. “I wanna find out who this bitch is.”

“That’s my girl.” Michael said, and they high-fived as Geoff stood patiently.

“Good.” Geoff nodded to her. “Let’s get this shit done sooner rather than later. I want this taken care of before shit gets weirder.”

 

* * *

 

Jeremy zipped up his purple hoodie, thanked god for the rain, and flipped up his all-concealing hood as he donned a pair of sunglasses. He stepped into Spencer’s, even more thankful for the low lighting, and looked around for a moment before someone called out . . . well, not his name, but the name he was answering to.

“Ray!” Yelled the cashier, a kind of nerdy younger guy with a name tag that read ‘Caleb’. “420 blaze it!”

Ray seemed to have the most public life outside of the gang. He went out and joked around with people, didn’t often conceal his whereabouts, wore his iconic look everywhere he went. So he was often recognized and called out to, and even gave out an autograph once to some kid named Trevor (Jeremy was so fucking jealous).

“Hey, man.” He replied, his voice quiet and flat to the point of being nearly monotone. “I uh, I need a blow up doll.”

“Ha! Sure thing, dude.” Caleb walked out from behind the register and inspected the shelves. “You want Fatty Patty or Boy-Toy Brad?”

“Brad.” Jeremy blushed, and very much hoped that no one ever bring this up to Ray.

“Oh man, Matty B. owes me ten bucks.” The cashier said as he took the box back to the counter and rung it up.

“From the forums?” Jeremy gasped in temporary distraction, then remembered himself and cleared his throat. “Uh, I mean -- can I get that bagged please?”

“Yeah. And no charge sir, really, you’re like the coolest.” Caleb said excitedly, and Jeremy shifted uncomfortably. It was kind of shit to watch someone meet their favorite celebrity -- if you could call a high profile criminal that -- and know that it isn’t real. He decided he might as well treat the guy to make up for it.

“Ya know, YOLO.” Jeremy said, satisfied with the dry sarcasm he managed to convey that Ray exuded so effortlessly, and Caleb grinned widely as he took the bag. “Have a good one, man, stay cakeless.”

“You too, sir!” He called as Jeremy walked out.

He returned to his apartment, pulled the uh, the doll from its packaging, and blew it up very slowly and with ample deep breathing punctuated by violent swearing. It took some time, but when it was done, he folded it in half and stuffed it in a plastic bag with the laser and his other props. By then, it was dark, and he made his way up to Portola Drive.

He first went to Kara’s store, and found the door unlocked for him, then ventured through and placed his items in the helicopter; a red beard, pillow, Hawaiian shirt, fake mustache, a rope with a hook, and a can of green spray paint. Then he had business upstairs.

He slipped on the mask and bounded up the steps, and found Kara just sat up in bed, ready to switch on the light when he stepped through the doorway.

“Keep that off.” He demanded, then went to her window and pulled it open a few inches. He took the laser and placed it gently on the sill, then turned back to her.

“Leave this open.” She looked to the small device in fear, and he felt a little bad at that, so he gave her the smallest peace of mind he could while donned in that infamous black mask. “It’s nothing that can hurt you.”

She looked doubtful, but nodded quickly, probably to avoid more trouble. He stalked away without another word, back downstairs and out into the street. He looked around and found what he wanted quickly. 

The black and orange Truffade Adder that was frequently parked on this street, well known by tourists and admired by locals. He broke in without setting off the alarm, and pulled the doll from his bag and sat it in the chair a moment. Then, he took off his mask and fitted it onto the doll’s head.

“You could fool ‘em alright.” He muttered to Brad, then shoved him down onto the floor and out of sight. He grabbed the heaviest thing in his bag, a brick, and sat it next to the gas petal for later use.

With everything in place, he took off, a grin plastered on his face. Tomorrow, good things would come at long last. He was ready.

 

* * *

 

“Geoff!” Michael called out, and in the kitchen he heard the tinkling of glasses. “I got a text from Lindsay, she’s got a lead!”

“On your copy-cat?” Jack asked, and the rest of the crew perked up.

They were sorting through their monthly earnings, just a casual evening, but at Lindsay’s news, the mindless chatter fell away. Geoff returned, a drink in hand, and gave Michael an authoritative look.

“Where is she?” He asked sternly.

“On her way.” He said, and smirked. “Apparently, she’s got a guest.”

Beside him, Ryan put on his mask, and Ray pulled out a pink stun gun. Gavin grabbed his tablet and started to tap it fervently.

“Jack, prepare the interrogation room.” Geoff said, his voice brimmed with malicious intent. There was a clear excitement in the air as Jack grinned.

“Yeah, it’s torture time!” Ray whooped, and Michael lifted his drink to start a toast.

“Don’t bother.” Gavin cut in with a sigh, and everyone turned to him. “Security feed shows an actual guest.”

“Damnit.” Jack swore, and stood up and smoothed out his shirt instead.

“Aw, I wanted to punch someone.” Ryan lamented, and pulled off the mask in defeat. 

A knock sounded against the apartment door, and Ray walked over and opened it. Lindsay stepped in and was followed by, much to the surprise of everyone but Gavin, the RT Syndicate accountant, Joel Heyman.

“Joel.” Geoff greeted, openly surprised. “You’re our lead?”

Joel shrugged, and Lindsay stepped in.

“Go ahead, tell him what you told me.” She said, her voice deep and professional. Joel gave her a nod and turned to the group as they all came over to listen in.

“I’m the one who hired Michael.” He confessed, and looked over to him guiltily. “I know I promised I wouldn’t tell them, but blame your wife, she said you wouldn’t get in trouble.”

“How did you hire him?” Geoff asked, and Joel knitted his brow.

“Over the phone, gold at the drop-off point.” He answered. “Weird question.”

“The phone.” Michael groaned. “This bitch does voices, too.”

“What?” He asked and looked more confused than ever.

“You didn’t hire Michael to do this.” Gavin explained. “You got a fake.”

“A fake?” Joel squinted and looked to Michael. “It wasn’t really you?”

“Yeah, of course it wasn’t, you moron.” Geoff said, annoyed. “Why the hell would Michael even take an outside gig?”

“I can’t say.” Joel started, and Ryan cracked his knuckles. “Okay, Jesus -- because Lindsay’s pregnant.”

Everyone gasped and turned to her, and her eyes widened in shock.

“Nooooo.” She said immediately as she waved her arms in dismissal, and Ray chuckled.

“That shit’s not happening right now.” Michael answered, and Joel looked oddly disappointed. “You got played.”

“Or he’s covering.” Ryan said darkly, and Joel opened his mouth to defend himself, but Jack cut in.

“He’s now stuck in the middle of someone else’s drama.” He said pointedly. “This is like the worst thing that could ever happen to him, no way this is a set-up.”

“Look, can you tell us anything about this girl?” Geoff asked him, and Joel shook his head.

“It’s a girl?” He asked meekly, and Geoff let out a weary sigh.

“You never met in person?” Ray asked, and he shook his head. “You didn’t reach out to her?”

“I put out the job, and she called me.” Joel answered. “Fuck, guys, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, if it wasn’t you, it would’ve been someone we’re a lot less friendly with.” Jack said kindly. “We got lucky here.”

“Lucky my ass.” Geoff said. “We’re at a dead end now.”

“She called him.” Gavin pointed out. “Joel, if you give me the number I can try to trace it.”

“This bitch is good.” Ray shook his head, and the group looked to him. “Scouting for a job? Faking a voice so well that it fooled our friend? We’re fucked.”

“That’s the spirit.” Geoff said, his voice hollow.

“Don’t worry boss, we’re gonna get her.” Lindsay said, and bowed her head. “We’re gonna end this before it goes too far.”

“Someone fucked with my crew.” Geoff said darkly. “It’s already gone too far.”


	4. Chapter 4

Jeremy sat down in front of a full length mirror, a pallet of body paint rested on the bed next to him. The tattoos didn’t have to be exact, especially with night approaching, but they needed to be convincing. He copied from mug shots, newspaper clippings, anything a heist survivor managed to snap a photo of. It took hours, but in the end, his hands ached and he was satisfied with the array of compasses, anchors and daggers.

He misted himself in setting spray (Urban Decay, which he purchased from a very helpful Ulta employee) and picked up his brown leather jacket. The sun hung low in the sky -- it was almost time. Time to heist.

He was more nervous than he cared to admit; he’d been planning for so long now, put so much effort in, and he was doing it all for his favorite gang. He would hate for them to see him fail, unable to spread fear or shot down by police. But he would hate himself if he couldn’t fool the random citizens he was going to rob into believing he was the gang. It would be unbearable to be caught in the lie, and he’d let down the crew as badly as he’d let down himself.

But he had to try his hardest, had to keep strong, had to show his dedication. He pulled on the jacket and a pair of gloves, then fitted the wig and beanie onto his head. The sun was beginning to set. It was time to go.

He stole a box truck and parked a block from Portola Drive; the shopping capital of Los Santos, the perfect place to set up a flashy robbery. This is where Miles’ explosions came in. He removed half from his duffel bag and tossed them into the back, then set out to steal another box truck.

He pulled up at one end of Portola Drive and parked in the middle of the road, completely in the way of traffic. Thankfully it wasn’t so busy, and he left the bag in the passenger seat and ran out of it and around the block to the other truck. This was the hardest bit, parking both trucks at either end of the street, because in a gang of several people it’d be synchronized. This one second of hesitation could clue people in to what was happening and blow the whole thing.

He ran down the street and hopped into the cab of the truck faster than he’d ever gotten into a car before, then turned it on and sped down the road. He parked on the other end of the road, and heard horns go off as he jumped out of his seat, pistol in one hand and a dark heavy bag in the other, and ran out. Heads were turning as people were starting to catch on, so he grabbed the remote from his pocket and flicked the switch.

Two great explosions sounded, and people swayed on their feet as the trucks were destroyed with a spray of fire and smoke. Screams sounded out, but he pulled out his gun and made sure his next words were louder than all others.

“Everybody shut up! This is a heist!” He yelled as people spilled out of the store fronts and saw him standing there in the road.

“Oh my god, Mogar!” A woman screeched, and he pointed his pistol.

“Shut up! Sit down, all of you!” He commanded. The crowd threw themselves to the ground and looked up to him in fear. “Get on the ground!”

The screaming started to fade as people became more obedient. Fear was quickly placating them, and Jeremy was glad he was getting the effect he’d planned for. He unzipped his duffel bag and pulled out the Jaws of Life that it contained.

“I want your money and your jewelry!” He yelled out, then tossed the empty bag onto the ground. “Pass it around, you get caught skipping and I’ll carve out your goddamn kneecaps!”

A woman grabbed the bag and threw her earrings in, then pulled out her wallet as the surrounding patrons did the same. Adrenaline pumped through Jeremy’s veins as he observed them, but he quickly realized he had other work to do.

“No one even fucking think about trying to get out of here!” He yelled, and thumbed the cardboard remote in his pocket. “Or I promise you, you’ll get fucking sniped in a heartbeat!”

He switched it on, and from Kara’s bedroom window, the laser flashed into the crowd, and the panicked screaming rose once more. So these morons now bought that both Michael and Ray were the ones terrorizing them. Jeremy could jump for joy at how well this was going. 

“Alright, if you own a store, you’re gonna grab your register draw!” He yelled. “Dump it the fuck in the bag, no fucking skimping!”

A few stood and rushed into building, and Jeremy mentally cheered when they returned with cash register draws stuffed with hundred dollar bills. With a barely concealed grin, he turned and approached what he was actually here for. His real target, the important one. 

A shiny iron statue of a horse named Faswan that sat in the middle of Portola Drive. It towered over him on its base, its back hooves a foot above his head and the horse’s rearing, angry expression depicted ten feet above that. It was solid iron, a classic work of art, and bolted to its cement base.

For now.

He switched on the Combi-Tool and set to work, only to find Blaine’s promise to be true -- it was high quality machinery that made quick work of the screws holding the statue down. He walked around it and snapped each of the four bolts on each corner, then looked around to his audience once more.

They were still silent, passing a duffel bag amongst themselves and tossing cash into it. The laser was trained on the pavement, inches from one man’s foot, and looked more to be a reminder of the gang’s power than just a remote control toy on a window sill. Jeremy, satisfied with this, turned and headed into Kara’s store, gun pointed, and found several shoppers attempting to hide amidst the clothing.

“Out!” He demanded, and they all ran to the door. He connected eyes with the store owner and jerked his head towards the stairs. “Hide in your room.”

Her eyes went wide, but she nodded gratefully and rushed up the steps. Good, he needed her out of the way so she didn’t see the truth. He stepped out the back door where the helicopter was waiting for him and pulled off his jacket, gloves, and wig and threw them on the floor of the chopper. Then he pulled on a pair of dark aviators, stuck the handlebar mustache to his upper-lip, switched to a large rifle slung over his shoulder, and picked up the rope.

He walked back out through the store, and gasps echoed along the street as people recognized the crew’s glorious leader. Everyone shrunk back or tensed up, and as Jeremy stepped through the crowd, he found it parted for him.

“Nobody even fucking think about moving.” He threatened in a hoarse voice, and many of them visibly flinched. He was powerful beyond their imaginations, a fearsome figure with a notoriously rasping voice that they trembled to hear, but still couldn’t get enough of. It felt good to be the greatest crime boss in Los Santos.

He stepped through the crowd quickly, then tossed the rope over the horse’s torso. He climbed onto the base and tied the rope with the hook upwards just as sirens began to sound in the distance.

“I guess that’s our cue to go, boys!” ‘Geoff’ called out to no one and hopped off the base. As he stepped back into the building, he reached into his pocket and switched off Ray’s sniper laser.

“I’ll take that.” He said to a man sat on the ground, and picked up the duffel bag. It was now significantly weighed down with cash and jewelry, though he found no difficultly lifting it. He stepped over to Kara’s door and stopped, then turned back to the crowd.

“Thank you for your cooperation, you’ve been a pleasure.” He said hoarsely, and took a bow. The crowd murmured, a mixture of unease and awe, and Jeremy knew that he’d left his mark, and done so convincingly. This unique hold that the gang had on the city, the perfectly balanced fear and respect -- he felt it during every heist, and he felt it now. 

He rushed back into Kara’s building, and once inside, he walked over to the cash register, but looked right past it and instead at the cordless phone docked in its base. It was a business phone though, so there was a way to connect to the building’s intercom. He gripped it tight in his hand and ran back out onto the street, then past the remains of the box truck and onto the crossroad. He dialed for the intercom and steeled his nerves.

“And just because we’re leaving doesn’t mean you lot are.” Gavin’s soft, threatening tone was loud enough on the store intercom for those on the street to hear. A little more feminine, and maybe the accent was a bit over the top, but people needed to hear it clearly to understand that this was in fact the Fakes. “So you bloody well better stay put.”

The sirens blared louder, and Jeremy hung up, flung the phone, and ran over to the Adder. He opened the door and sat Brad upright in his chair, then lifted the brick and placed it on the gas pedal as he spotted flashes of red and blue from the corner of his eye. He closed the door and let the car drive off north, with plenty of room on the road ahead to put up a good chase.

“Godspeed, Brad.” He saluted the distant car, then heard the sirens come even closer.

Jeremy scaled the nearest building, and got to the roof just in time to turn and watch the police speed after the Adder without a moment’s hesitation. He grinned to himself, then ran and jumped to the next roof over and raced down the fire escape. From there, he rushed over to his helicopter, threw on the Hawaiian shirt, and donned his red wig and beard. He stuffed a pillow under his shirt as the chopper roared to life.

The blades picked up as he took off, careful in such a small space, and soared above the roof to see the crowd still sat in the street, over a hundred people just waiting for him to get out of there, for his power over them to end. It was a rush, to see so many of them bent to his will. Faswan glinted from the corner of his eye, and he refocused on the task at hand.

He lowered the Cargobob and deployed the hook, and saw the crowd cover their ears and duck down, which could only prompt heavy laughter on his part. He heard the clang of metal as it connected with the hook on his rope, and pulled up. What came next was an awful sound of metal tearing that grated at his ears like nothing had before. He hissed to himself as he pulled up on the wheel, his ears practically burning, but as he looked down, he could see the horse’s reflection in the glass of a nearby building, now airborne thanks to his roped hook, and knew he’d succeeded.

“Woohoo!” He howled, a perfect copy of Jack, and flew off without anyone following. As he sailed off, his figure a blot against the moon, he fully realized his success.

The perfect heist was his to have, his favorite crew’s to claim. He’d managed to rob ten stores and at least a hundred civilians out of thousands and get away completely clean. Not only that, but he’d flown off with one of the most recognizable works of art in Los Santos as easily as one would steal a pack of gum.

He glanced into the back of his chopper at his props, the green spray paint in particular. One last move, and the Fake AH Crew would discover all of this, and be so damn proud of him.

 

* * *

 

“Oi!” The door slammed behind Gavin as he stormed into the apartment. “You arseholes!”

Geoff and Michael, currently the only ones in the room, gave him a questioning look, and Gavin only fumed in return. It was late, and though no one had returned to their individual apartments, they were the only two in the living room; Ray was cleaning his gun, Jack doing paperwork, Ryan undoubtedly being creepy somewhere out there, and Geoff and Michael were sharing a drink and a little bit of humility after their past few days of being rather heated with each other.

“What the hell, Gavin?” Michael asked, and Gavin threw his suitcase on the ground.

“You couldn’t even wait until I was out of the country?” He yelled. “I told you not to do anything big and fun when I was gone to visit Dan!”

“What are you talking about?” Geoff asked, bewildered and on the verge of annoyance at being yelled at.

“I saw your heist on the airport monitors, you dope!” Gavin shouted indignantly. “Did you plan the whole thing behind my back or something?”

“What on Earth--” Geoff began, but Jack walked into the room to investigate all the screaming and cut him off.

“Gavin, calm down.” He began, even though that’s never in all of history helped someone calm down. “Geoff’s been here, we all have.”

As Gavin opened his mouth to retort, Ryan rushed into the room, his expression alarmed.

“Guys.” He looked around, seemingly unsurprised that Gavin was present. “Where the hell is Ray?”

“Trying to avoid the family drama.” Ray answered as he strolled in. “What the hell is it now? If you idiots decided to play another game of monopoly after last time--”

“It was a _small_ fire.” Ryan interrupted, and Gavin scowled. “Anyway--”

“I had third degree burns!” Gavin began to yell again.

“Shut up! Fucking complainer!” Michael screamed, and Geoff took a long sip of his drink.

“Guys.” Jack cut in as he tried to settle them down, but was ignored.

“You threw me in jail because I was winning! In real jail!” Gavin screeched.

“You weren’t winning!” Ray said indignantly, and Ryan sighed, shook his head, and crossed the room. He picked up the remote and turned on the television, and the newscaster drowned out their squabbling.

“. . . Infamous Fakes have done it again, probably their most public heist involving the most civilians. . .” She said, and everyone fell silent. “With a robbing of roughly one hundred and fifty people and ten stores on Portola Drive.”

“You saw this on the news at the airport.” Ryan began dryly. “And didn’t immediately think of our copy-cat?”

Gavin shrunk back, realization humbling him, as everyone stared at the screen in confusion and alarm.

“What the hell?” Geoff muttered to himself, and Jack pulled out his laptop. 

Footage rolled, and they all stood there, mouths slack with shock, as they saw an officer open the door to a black and orange Adder with a wildly crunched up grill and bullet holes covering the rear. Said officer peered in rather sheepishly to reveal a blow up doll sat in the driver’s seat, naked plastic with only a black skull mask on his head.

“Holy shit, look at this cell phone clip.” Jack said, and swung around his laptop. It was grainy as all hell and too far away, but the arms full of tattoos were unmistakable.

“It’s a whole group.” Gavin said in awe with what he thought was a newfound understanding. “They’re impersonating all of us.”

“Look, they’ve got a sniper.” Ray pointed to the laptop at the laser on the pavement. “They’re shit though, you don’t just point the damn thing whenever you want.”

“Our old friend ‘Michael’ is on the TV.” Ryan said, and they turned to see a different cell clip of a familiar patch of auburn curls.

“Bitch.” Michael hissed as Gavin pulled out his tablet.

“I don’t even have that mustache anymore.” Geoff huffed to himself, but he was clearly too pissed for anyone to try for banter.

“There’s Jack, too.” Gavin said, and held up his tablet to show a zoomed in photo of a bearded man at the controls of a helicopter.

“Oh my god.” Ryan said, and they all turned to the television and his ashen expression.

“. . . Seems the Fakes have left a calling card on the most famous art installation in the city.” The newscaster said, and the screen showed off Faswan the horse, sat halfway above the water on the beach. On its side, in clear green lettering, were the words Fake AH Crew, with the logo emblazoned right next to them.

“They got the new logo right.” Jack mused, but no one spoke again as a cell phone went off, and then another, and then a third.

“The typical congratulatory phone calls.” Ryan said, and Gavin denied his call from Dan.

“Never thought I’d be pissed to see one of these.” Geoff said as he denied a call from Burnie. “Why did someone do this? Write our name, claim a heist as ours?”

“It’s a Trojan Horse.” Ray answered, only half-joking, and Geoff brought a hand to his chin.

“We need to get over there.” He stated, and Ryan gaped.

“Over where? To the place we apparently just robbed? To the horse that can’t be anything other than a trap?” He asked, brows raised in skepticism.

“What do you wanna do, Ryan, sit around with our thumbs up our asses?” Michael shot back. “You’re telling me you’re not pissed the fuck off that someone impersonated you?”

“I wouldn’t call that blow-up doll a ‘someone.’” Ray stated dryly. “But whoever played at being me was a poor shot, and I will not have my name besmirched like this.”

“That horse could’ve been hollowed out and stuffed with bombs for all we know.” Ryan said defiantly.

“Ryan naming exactly what he’d do with a horse statue.” Jack snorted. “It’s been like an hour, they couldn’t have.”

“Geoff, GPS has Sorola’s car on Portola.” Gavin said as he kept his eyes fixed on his tablet. “Your call.”

Geoff hummed a moment, then sighed.

“What about that phone call to Joel you wanted to trace?” He asked, and Gavin shook his head.

“It was a burner, signal’s gone.” Gavin answered, and Geoff sighed once more.

“We’ll leave the possibly explosive horse to the cops.” He said finally, and Ryan breathed a sigh of relief. “And I’ll call Sorola on the way over to the crime scene.”

“But-” Ryan started, and Geoff held up a single finger in warning.

“Do not fucking talk back to me. Michael and Ryan, take bikes ahead of us while we follow in the armored car.” Geoff threatened in a low voice. It was the first time in awhile that Ryan actually looked scared, so he closed his mouth and sulked off, the rest of the gang in tow as Geoff dialed his phone.

“Sorola?” Geoff asked as the dial tone ended. “Make yourself useful and clear out Portola. We need to see this shit for ourselves.”

Because there was no way he was gonna miss a heist perpetrated in his crew’s name. No way he wouldn’t investigate this threat until it was completely eliminated.

 


	5. Chapter 5

The ride was quick, with Michael and Ryan on bikes escorting the car, guns in hand incase the police weren’t cleared out properly. Each knew it had to be better than the bitter silence that surely filled the car. Upon arrival, they found zero trouble with the police, only Sorola and his select men. Geoff hopped out of the car quickly, and though his expression was stern and professional, the gang knew that there was anger, maybe even fear behind his stony gaze.

“Wanna tell me why you made me send home a hundred men in blue just so you could look at your own crime scene?” Sorola asked as Geoff lead the group over yellow police tape. “Chief of Police doesn’t mean ‘do whatever the fuck you want,’ ya know.”

“Bitch, bitch, bitch.” Geoff griped. “Gus, have you ever known me to ask for your help without reason?”

“You used to tell me you had emergencies while I was on the beat.” Gus recalled as he lead the group to the middle of the street. “Though I don’t think needing someone to play Halo with counted as a life or death situation.”

Geoff waved his hand, but didn’t respond as they all took in the area. There wasn’t much of a mess, just a giant cement base sat where a statue once rested. At each end of the street, two burnt out box trucks had been pushed aside for easier access to the crime scene, but they would soon be towed away. Glass had broken near them, so the crew could assume they were blown up to trap the crowd, but other than that and a beached horse on the other side of town, the place was clean. Too neat to be one of theirs.

“Lot of security cameras in nearby stores to sift through, but we don’t think they’ll give us much.” Gus said. “You guys put on a show, but SWAT’s having some initial difficulties finding you on camera.”

Now that really wasn’t like them. Geoff eyed the corners of nearby buildings, his gaze searching for the little red lights of the cameras.

“How many dead?” Ryan asked, and Gus knew him well enough under that mask not to be alarmed.

“None.” Gus answered, and everyone froze and turned to him.

“None?” Ray asked, practically scandalized. “None dead?”

“No cops?” Michael added, wildly confused at the thought of committing a crime and not murdering anyone.

“None.” Gus repeated, now somewhat confused. “Why is that a surprise? From what we can gather, none of you even fired a shot.”

“Well, that’s true.” Michael said. “Because it wasn’t us.”

“Obviously.” Ryan snorted. “No one’s dead.”

“Funhaus?” Sorola asked, but Geoff shrugged.

“Guys.” Jack spoke up suddenly, then pointed to a store. “Officer, who owns that shop?”

“That’s the one your fakers kept walking in and out of.” Gus said, surprised. “Lady who runs the place said Vagabond here made some threats against her, forced her to let you guys hide a helicopter back there?”

“Lady.” Ryan repeated slowly, and the crew looked around at each other in sudden understanding (again, or so they thought).

“She in there?” Geoff asked in a low voice, and when Gus nodded, pulled out his gun.

“There’s something in the upstairs window.” Jack said carefully as he tried to keep his group safe. “I can’t see, it’s small, something technical.”

“Could be a bomb.” Michael squinted as he looked to the second story window. “Geoff, let me go in alone. This is my fight.”

“Shut up.” Geoff replied. “It’s my crew, it’s our fight. I’m going, and whoever wants to follow can follow.”

He walked into the store, and everyone drew their weapons and followed their boss. He moved quietly, then slunk up the stairs. When he reached the top and looked down to everyone else, Ryan came up to his side. Geoff nodded to the crew, they all nodded back, and he gave Ryan a jerk of his head. Without hesitation, he slammed the door down with his shoulder, and the group rushed in.

“Don’t fucking move!” Geoff said, and the woman sat on her bed untying her shoes just stared at them in a cross of fear and bewilderment. Gavin went straight for the device on her window, paused, and looked over to them.

“It’s not an explosive.” Gavin said to Geoff with a look meant to calm him, and Geoff nodded. “Ryan, come ‘ere, you know hardware better than I do.”

“Hold on.” Geoff said, his tone commanding. “She said Vagabond was the one telling her to do all this shit. You like the thought of him ‘talking’ to you now?”

Though the threat was clear, she didn’t get more scared. Really, she just looked even more confused, if that was possible, and Michael huffed in annoyance.

“Why are you impersonating us?” He asked her boldly. “Why start with me?”

“I don’t--” She answered in a soft voice, and Geoff cut her off.

“Don’t lie to us, we can be real mean when we wanna be.” He said quickly, meant to seem cruel.

“I know that.” She blurted out with a glance to Ryan, and instantly showed her regret.

“And what the hell does that mean?” Geoff demanded, and she was basically shaking.

“Just tell us what you know.” Jack cut in, his voice soft, and Geoff rounded on him.

“Don’t feel sorry for her, this isn’t real.” He seethed. “This is an act. She’s been acting all night.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She yelped, then turned to the Vagabond. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me if I let your friends pass through!”

She was on the verge of tears, clearly terrified now and still horribly confused, then turned to Michael.

“You let me hide when you robbed everyone. You were kind--” She gave him a defiant look as her eyes welled up with tears. “--For an evil bastard!”

“Hey!” Geoff lifted his gun, and she put her hands in front of her face instinctively.

“Geoff, don’t.” Ryan said, his tone defeated. “She’s a civilian, I can tell.”

“I’ll back that.” Michael said bitterly. “I’ve been studying other me for a few days now, now that I really look I can tell this isn’t our girl.”

“Yeah.” Ray agreed as he held up his phone and showed off a distant photo of ‘Michael’ at the heist. “Our girl’s jacked.”

“Then she’s one of them.” Geoff growled, but Ryan looked over to Gavin, who was still stood over by the window. His head was tilted as he continued to try and figure out what the device was, though he was more a software kind of guy.

“Gav, bring that over here.” Ryan said, and Gavin lifted it gently. It was a small device taped to cardboard, though for most of them, it could’ve been alien technology.

“Nice circuitry.” Michael commented. “But all I recognize are the resistors -- this has more of a ‘gadget’ type feel than an electrician’s work.”

“This on the end is a laser.” Gavin explained. “Which makes me think that there wasn’t any sniper after all.”

“The rest is a receiver. For a homemade remote.” Ryan informed them, then leaned back thoughtfully. “So one of their crew turned it on and it looked like they had a sniper.”

“Why not just get a sniper?” Geoff asked, and Jack narrowed his eyes.

“We didn’t have Ray on for ages because we couldn’t pay for him.” Jack recalled sagely. “They’re just starting out, then, and I guess don’t really know how to do this whole ‘criminal underground’ thing without copying their favorite personas.”

“No, it’s more than that.” Gavin cut in as he started to connect the dots. “Ryan’s a blow up doll. Ray’s a laser pointer. Michael robs the place, walks in here, Geoff walks out.”

“Are you telling me. . .” Michael hesitated, then grew angry as he realized what Gavin was saying. “That it’s still just one bitch?”

“Damnit!” Geoff balked. “Who is this chick?”

“It’s not a girl.” Kara cut in. After being silent so long, they all seemed surprised to see her still sitting there.

“And what makes you say that?” Ryan asked, and she shrunk back slightly.

“He talked to me as you. Then as you.” She jerked her head towards Michael. “It was a guy, I was ten feet away from him.”

“Or she’s ugly.” Ray said flatly.

“Whatever the fuck’s in their pants isn’t the issue.” Geoff said. “They’re committing entire heists as us! As all of us!”

“Stealing our names and reputations to do whatever it is that suits them!” Jack added.

“And they’re not killing anybody!” Ryan said indignantly, and Kara shifted uncomfortably.

“Is there anything else you remember about this girl?” Jack asked. “Any gender neutral features?”

It was a helpful question, and she thought a moment before responding.

“Brown eyes, square jaw, broad shoulders.” She thought a moment longer. “Really short.”

“Heels.” Gavin said immediately. “Maybe it is a bloke.”

“He’d have to be real damn committed to put on heels.” Michael said, then turned to Geoff. “Well, what’s our next move, boss?”

“We’re all gonna drive back to the apartment and get what you guys need.” Geoff said. “I’m gonna give you all your orders then.”

The group nodded, generally satisfied with that, and though some turned to go, Geoff remained a moment.

“And you.” He turned to Kara, and she blinked in surprise. “We’re gonna assume that you’re a civilian and leave you the fuck alone. But if anything points back to you, fucking so help you--”

“Thank you for your cooperation.” Jack butted in, and she nodded quickly. They all leave her apartment and walk back downstairs and out to the street. Sorola gave them a questioning look, but Geoff waved his hand in dismissal, and they took off.

The ride back to the apartment was shorter still, but now there was determination searing in their stomachs, and they could all barely sit in their seats without bouncing their legs and squirming in anticipation. Things had come to an unexpected head, and they wanted answers, stat. Before this got any more dangerous.

“A homemade remote.” Ray muttered to himself in the silent car. “This girl’s Ryan-level smart.”

Yeah, that made everyone feel better. In front of them, on the bikes, Michael and Ryan stopped short and pulled out their guns. Ryan signaled Geoff, who was driving, to get out of there.

“Oh, what the hell is it now?” Geoff grumbled, then glanced up to the apartment. It was a moment of exhaustion, just to note that they were _right fucking there_ and there was already another problem, but he suddenly found himself none too happy with the view.

Flames poured from every broken window, the fire rapidly spreading to the other floors. If he listened carefully in the distance, he could hear the wail of sirens as the police and fireman approached. People were stood on the sidewalk, disgruntled at being woken from sleep at this time of night, but what they felt was nothing compared to the rage Geoff was feeling.

“Oh, fuck!” He drove off as the crew took in the sight.

“Geoff! I have all my computers in there, intel I can’t get back!” Gavin squeaked in alarm, and Geoff parked around the block and turned to look at him in the backseat.

“How much can you recover remotely?” He asked as Michael and Ryan pulled up.

“Ninety percent, but not the juicy stuff.” Gavin said urgently. “Let me get in there, I can get my files--”

“Absolutely not.” Geoff cut him off, but Jack spoke up beside him.

“Let me, Geoff.” He volunteered. “You know how many plane crashes I’ve scraped out of, and I know how important some of that shit is.”

“Then let me go with you!” Gavin pleaded. “You won’t know what anything is, please!”

“Fuck.” Geoff groaned and banged the steering wheel. He looked between the pair, bold Jack and desperate Gavin, and let out an indecisive hum. “Neither of you get hurt.”

Both of them scrambled out of the car, and Michael stepped over as Geoff rolled down the window.

“What the fuck are we doing?” He asked, fear barely masked by anger, and Geoff knew he needed to stay in control for their sakes.

“You and Ryan drive ahead to each of the safe houses, let us know which is safe.” Geoff said, and Michael nodded.

“You think our copy-cat was pissed that we caught on?” Michael asked, and Geoff sighed.

“One woman? She’d have to be a fucking lunatic.” He said, then shook his head as Ryan approached the window. “Something isn’t right here. We’ll figure it out when we get to a safe place for everyone.”

“We’re gonna find this guy, Geoff.” He said supportively, and Michael nodded, his anger still clear, but the two walked back to their bikes and drove off.

“Ray, I want you to spread a message.” Geoff said to his one remaining teammate, and Ray looked to him with rapt attention. “Go to Ammu-Nation, buy what you like, and let the world know that we’re out for blood.”

“Michael’s gonna be jealous.” Ray said with a lift of one brow.

“If you feel like you’re not in danger afterwards, go to the beach, watch from a distance. If the cops take the horse, follow them, report back with any changes.” Geoff gave him a pained look. “I know that’s a lot--”

“It’s always a lot, Geoff. Don’t worry about it.” Ray said, his voice quiet but rather falsely nonchalant, and he opened his door and got out of the car without another word. Geoff gave him a final worried glance as he rolled up the tinted windows and locked the doors.

He waited in silence for a few minutes while awaiting Jack and Gavin’s return. He was tired, frustrated, and scared, but that didn’t stop his intuition from telling him something wasn’t right. An impersonator was bold, but not this type of bold. Playing pretend with your life and burning down your home were two different things, and he just couldn’t shake the thought that this girl, whoever she was, wasn’t capable of something this risky.

Clearly, she’d done something in their name that set someone off. Portola Drive would seem like the perfect place to rob at first glance, but you never knew who’d be in whoever else’s pocket. All it took was a hot-head corrupt corporate bastard to get angry that the Fakes had embarrassed him and one call to put out the hit. Which really just made things worse for their imposter in his mind. It was surely unwittingly done, but now there was a fire on her hands and vengeance in all of their minds. She wasn’t going to get away easy, especially not now.

Jack and Gavin rushed around the corner, their clothes blackened with soot and their arms full of cables and motherboards. Geoff popped the trunk for them, and they dumped their supplies and got in.

“Where’s Ray?” Gavin asked as he sat down in the backseat alone.

“He’s sending a message to anyone who dared to fuck with us.” Geoff said, and shifted into gear. “We’re gonna drive out, I’m waiting for a call from one of the guys to tell us if the safe houses are clear.”

“Depending on that answer, at least we’ll have some sense of who we’re dealing with.” Jack shrugged as he examined his singed beard in the rear-view mirror. A ping went off in Geoff’s pocket, and Gavin reached up and pulled out the phone for him.

“Michael’s at our Sandy Shores location, place is torched.” Gavin read, and flinched as Geoff let out a groan. “I’ll text Ryan for you, see what he’s got.”

“Christ alive.” Geoff mumbled and took a sharp turn. “Who knew about that place?”

“Rooster Teeth, probably Funhaus. Those new guys -- Creatures, I think -- could’ve caught on, too if they’ve got the right intel.” Jack listed, and Geoff clicked his teeth. Another ping from Gavin.

“Ryan says the place looks clear, but he’s scouting for spies or the like.” Gavin said, and Geoff breathed the smallest sigh of relief.

“Okay, tell Michael to head to Vespucci.” Geoff ordered. “Who knows about that house?”

“No one.” Jack answered. “Not even the guys at RT.”

“Good.” Geoff said stiffly. “I’ll feel a lot better staying somewhere no one knows about.”

 

* * *

 

(RTFanForum.Net post by KdinJenzen:

“Holy SHIT guys, the Fake’s apartment HQ is ON FUCKING FIRE.’”

Reply by user TheSteffie:

_fuckingballs.jpeg_ , _whoaflames.jpeg_ , _SCARYAF.jpeg_ )

Jeremy didn’t need the images to load to imagine the penthouse apartment engulfed in flames. He rested his head in his hands and groaned.

“Fuck me.” He muttered. “They’re gonna be so pissed. They’re gonna think I did it, oh fuck.”

And in a way, he did do it. He robbed Portola Drive and every store on it, and clearly that pissed someone off and sent them out to attack the would-be perpetrators. And now the Fakes, his favorite crew of all time, were most definitely going to fucking murder him if they traced the crime back.

Jeremy rushed to the bathroom and returned with a wet cloth, then refreshed the page as he scrubbed the tattoos off. He was just going to take pictures of the tattoos and make a post in the cosplay section, then read up on what the forum members thought of the latest heist. Obviously, the first post he saw was not his favorite.

But of course, maybe the whole thing was just an accident. Geoff got mad about the impersonation, had too much to drink, there was a matchbox a little too close for comfort. Ryan was so surprised that the finger on his favorite flare gun slipped. The heist interrupted a family game of Mouse Trap, and the boredom-induced mania coupled with the good news of a successful heist lead to some poor decision making.

(RTFanForum.Net post by JDoolz:

“Fire theories discussion….maybe they were just celebrating their heist and something went wrong?????”)

He wanted to be hopeful, really, so he scrubbed a moment longer, rinsed the cloth in the sink, then returned and refreshed the page.

(Reply by user CalebLovesYou:

“Then why is the Sandy Shores hideout ALSO FULL OF FUCKING FLAMES”

_TOWEROFSMOKE.jpeg_ , _ITSSOBRIGHT.jpeg_ , _motherofgodmeme.jpeg_ )

Fuck. Okay, well, it was his mess, he should put forth some level of effort to fix it. Just not enough to get him killed, though, because if he tried to go anywhere near the gang they’d have him executed so fast he wouldn’t even be able to fanboy over it.

(Reply by user JDoolz:

“Does anyone have eyes on the Vespucci Canals house?”

Reply by user AxialMatt:

“I can’t see any fire from my window, I’ll take out the garbage to do further inspection.”

Reply by user BGibbles:

_badassmferwallet.jpeg_

Reply by user TheSteffie:

“@BGibbles shut up Blaine, Geoff called you a fucking thumb.”

Reply by user AxialMatt:

“Holy fuck you guys, Vagabond’s here and Mogar just pulled up. I think they’re scouting the place for safety, I have to guess that the rest of the crew is on their way.”)

At least two of them were safe. Okay. He made a mess, and now he’d clean it up from a distance. He just needed to figure out how. He dropped the cloth, barely any of the tattoos removed, and looked over to his nightstand to a folded map of Los Santos. As he grabbed it and opened it up, his eyes scanned the paper and landed on the X’s he’d placed on Portola Drive and the beach beneath the bridge. His job. His fault.

He didn’t have the manpower to track down whoever was responsible, he was just a con-man, an impersonator. No, that would have to be the crew’s job. But he could watch carefully from a distance, follow their actions, give support when they needed it.

He stood up and grabbed a duffel bag, and tossed in wigs, shirts, mustaches, a fur-trimmed coat and a black mask, gloves, and plenty of guns. He opened the drawer to his nightstand and pulled out the money he’d gotten from the heist and shoved the wads of cash into his wallet, his pockets, even his shoes, wherever he could. Then he zipped the bag and slung it over his shoulder. He stood and looked around his tiny apartment, and it felt a bit like a goodbye. Of course, there was a high chance that was exactly the case; if he got too involved in this, if the crew caught him lurking around, realized who he was and murdered him, if whoever did this to them dug a little deeper and discovered the same truth the Fake AH Crew already had.

He closed the door, bounded down the stairs, and looked around for a car to steal for a moment before his eyes rested on a shiny motorcycle and helmet.

“That’ll work.” He mumbled to himself, and strode over. Time to repent.


	6. Chapter 6

It was only around quarter to one in the morning when the trio pulled up to the Vespucci Canals safe house, but with the tiring events that had just taken place, it could’ve been five a.m. with two sleepless days behind it. Geoff got out of the car to find the bikes both parked in the driveway, and Michael stood outside, seemingly waiting for them. He eyed Jack and Gavin up and down as they stepped out, Jack nursing a burn on his arm that he’d patched up on the way over.

“Glad you’re safe.” Michael called out as he walked towards them. “Doesn’t make me any less pissed the fuck off, but I’m glad you’re safe.”

Michael did look pissed, and Geoff could tell that he’d likely fly off the handle a few times before all of this was over. He decided assigning busy work would be the best he could do for the younger man, at least for now, just to keep him a little too burnt out to start screaming and shooting. But he worried for him, the one all this started with, the unnecessary guilt he must have been feeling.

“Help Gavin get the stuff out the trunk.” Geoff ordered. “Jack, check with Ryan on security.”

He and Jack walked inside to find Ryan, mask off and sipping on a Diet Coke (shocker). Geoff’s first concern was getting a drink, and as Jack began to discuss security detail with Ryan, he took a bottle of whiskey out of a cabinet and slid it helpfully in Geoff’s direction. He poured himself a drink and walked around the house; it was typical, a bedroom for everyone with a guest bedroom incase Burnie or Matt or the like were visiting, a nice kitchen, a blackboard stood in the living room for heist planning, a dungeon in the basement for torturing. Average suburbia.

Jack and Ryan returned and sat on the couch, and Michael and Gavin, finished with lugging wires and monitors over to Gavin’s room did the same, and they all gave him an expectant look. Oh, right. It was time to be the leader.

“Alright, well, we’ve had a pretty unpleasant evening.” Geoff said. “We’re all shaken up, but no one’s hurt, so that’s what’s important.”

A new ping went off, and Michael looked down at his phone.

“Ray?” Gavin asked cautiously, and Michael shook his head.

“Lindsay says she’s safe at Paleto Bay, wants to know if she should come in.” Michael said and looked up to Geoff, who thought a moment.

“I don’t know how safe she is out there, but it would be useful to get someone monitoring the apartment. Tell her it’s her call.” Geoff said, then looked to Gavin. “Ray’s gonna be fine, okay? Focus on your own orders.”

“And what are those?” Jack asked.

“Okay, here’s what we’re doing: Gavin, pull security footage around Portola and around the beach the horse was dumped, see how far you can track this girl.” He commanded, and Gavin nodded. “I highly doubt she actually set our safe houses on fire, I’m sure it was the work of some big shot who owns a store, but we’re still gonna hunt for blood on this one.”

“I agree.” Jack said soundly. “I don’t think a con would double as an arsonist.”

“Ryan, I need you to assist.” Geoff pushed on and turned to Ryan. “I know this stuff isn’t your specialty, but we’ve got a lot of technical work to get done and you’re the only one who at least kind of knows this shit.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Ryan said with a nod, and Geoff turned to Jack.

“I need you to figure out all the politics and back-alley shit that go down on Portola Drive. Online, in person, wherever, just see if you can narrow down some suspects.” He said. “If you need someone to go out and give bribes or threaten a motherfucker, send Michael.”

“What do I do until then?” Michael asked while Jack nodded.

“I’m gonna ask Sorola for the police reports and witness statements from tonight’s heist.” Geoff said. “You’re gonna help me go over it when it gets here, but until then, stockpile our weapons, do some patrols. We have to be ready for someone to find us.”

“And until then, no outside connections.” Gavin cut in. “Meg, Lindsay and Caiti are alright.”

“And if we need our friends at Rooster Teeth, that’s fine too.” Geoff continued. “But we need to organize our intel and shit here so we can figure out as much as we can, kill this impersonating bitch--”

“Or bloke.” Gavin chimed in, and Geoff ignored him.

“--And show every last motherfucker in Los Santos that we don’t get intimidated, we don’t fuck around, we’re the real deal.” He said, a fire burning in his gut. “Now get to work.”

Everyone stood up and hurried around, except Jack, who approached their leader.

“Geoff.” He spoke softly. “Maybe we should give everyone a break, let them get some sleep?”

“How the hell are they gonna sleep after a night like this?” Geoff hissed. “When one of our own is out there on a mission?”

“We should call Ray back.” Jack replied with a worried look. “He’s out there doing all this work--”

“We’ve all got shit to do. And haven’t you noticed by now that Ray prefers the solitude?” Geoff shot back. “I’m not letting the trail run cold, not when we all have more to give. Get to work, Jack.”

He stepped away, but Jack grabbed his arm.

“If they’re run down, they’re gonna get sloppy.” He warned, but Geoff shook his head.

“If they’re sloppy, it’s only paperwork.” Geoff assured him. “Nothing out in the field, nothing with a gun. Besides, no one knows we’re here. Trust me, we’re alone and we’re safe.”

“Hey Geoff!” Michael called out from the other end of the room. “Lindsay’s gonna take a look at Sandy Shores, then our apartment, then head over here.”

“Good, thank you.” He called back, then turned to his friend. “At least someone’s getting their work done.”

“Don’t start with me.” Jack tutted, but he strolled off to get his laptop and start researching.

 

* * *

 

By the time Jeremy got to the Vespucci house, everyone was there, with a car and two bikes parked out front and the lights on inside. He walked around the block twice to figure out where the best vantage point was; he needed someplace where he could be beyond concealed, because holy shit did he not want to get caught spying, but also had a good view of inside the house.

After awhile, he chose the roof of the house across the street, at least until morning before the family inside woke up. He dragged a trash can over, used it to hop up to a balcony, and from there got onto the roof. He laid down to stay hidden and pulled out a pair of binoculars, a notepad, and a pen. He was satisfied to find that he had a perfect view of the living room window, and peered through the binoculars.

Gavin was on a laptop, eyes glued to the screen, with Ryan peering over his shoulder. Geoff was on the phone and looked pretty grouchy, while Jack was on another laptop and Michael was cleaning a gun with a dour expression on his face.

“I’m watching someone be vaguely pissed at me in the distance.” Jeremy mumbled. “Weird.”

He pulled his notepad close to him and got comfortable. He would be there for awhile after all, and decided to figure out what everyone was doing before he stepped in to help. He just needed to find out what would be the best moment to step in and help out without getting his throat slit. Or throw on a disguise and do a job for them, or any mild bribery or threatening they required.

1:04 -- Geoff is irritated on the phone, Jack’s typing furiously. Michael’s cleaning a gun and looking pissed (at me, FUCK). Gavin and Ryan are huddled around a laptop. Ray’s not here.

1:30 -- Geoff is printing out pages upon pages of shit, looks like police reports and about a hundred witness statements from the heist. He and Michael are sorting through and reading it (sorry, guys).

2:12 -- I’m watching Ryan and Gavin watching me. Not irl or I’d be dead, but there I am in a helicopter, two different box trucks, and then running through the airfield in a fake beard on their laptop.

2:18 -- They’re all looking at me now and they’ve got their wallets out -- are they placing bets? On what, how long I’m gonna live?

 

* * *

 

“Fifty bucks it’s a woman.” Geoff said confidently and waved a bill around.

“I’ll take those odds.” Ryan said, and Jack shook his head.

“No, it’s a girl. It’s absolutely a girl.” He said as he pulled a few bills from the front pocket of his Hawaiian shirt, and Gavin gaped.

“What are you on about? What makes you think it’s a girl?” Gavin gawked.

“Because she’s in heels, you fucking idiot!” Michael cut in, his voice instantly loud. “You’re the one who spotted them, dipshit!”

“He’s in heels because he’s a short man!” Gavin yelled back defiantly.

“Wait a minute.” Geoff said as a grin began to form on his face. “When she’s dressed as Jack is she wearing . . . a fat suit?”

 

* * *

 

2:35 -- Geoff finally stopped laughing. My god, they’re so entertained by the thought of torturing me that it gave him the giggles. I am so fucked.

3:00 -- Michael talked to Jack awhile and left. I thought about following him, but he’s wearing a pair of brass knuckles and still looks pissed, so yeah, I’m going to stay put. Still no sign of Ray.

3:35 -- Jack did a sweep, completely missed me (he must be tired). Gavin looks absolutely dead, guys go to sleep seriously I’m getting concerned for your health.

4:01 -- Matt took a photo from his bedroom window to show the lack of flames at this safe house and posted it to the forum. I can see his house from here! Also on the forum: Lindsay’s at the apartment sniffing around, but Steffie’s really tired so she won’t post photos till tomorrow. Blaine has the night shift but volunteers to swing over later.

4:37 -- Jack took a phone call, didn’t look too happy. It was more disappointment than anger though, so I’ll assume he’s just hitting dead ends on whatever info he’s trying to gather.

5:20 -- Okay, I’m officially fucked, because Gavin just showed everyone a satellite view of my neighborhood and oh shit, they’re printing it out! They stuck it to the blackboard! Ryan just wrote ‘last known location!’ I’m gonna die!

5:32 -- So after I dropped the horse, returned the chopper and stole that car to get back home, they tracked the car but I don’t think they got me going into my building because they all look very tired and very frustrated instead of like, sharpening knives or whatever. So that’s a small relief.

5:45 -- Ray just showed up, everyone looks too bone tired to give him a proper greeting, but then again, he looks too tired to appreciate one.

6:03 -- And Michael’s returned, and he’s got some dried blood in his hair, that’s terrifying. Whole gang’s together now though, which means for now there’s nothing for me to do but sit back and watch the sunri--

“Ah!” He let out a shriek as someone gripped his ankle hard and pulled him down. 

He slid off the roof, the duffel bag looped around his arm, and crashed onto the balcony. He was knocked half out of his senses, but he knew to grip his notebook tightly, because fuck all if he was going to leave a clue for the crew to track him with behind. He had just the slightest glance of flaming red hair before he felt a sharp twinge of pain at being kicked in the stomach. He kicked back instinctively, but didn’t even touch her as she grabbed the collar of his shirt and stood him up.

“Who are you?” She yelled, and literally just punched him in the face instead of letting him answer. Jeremy noted that she must have been very tired and very, very irritated.

“Don’t!” He tried to wrestle out of her grip, and in one slick motion, she tossed him off the balcony. He felt a swooping sensation in the bottom of his stomach as he plummeted down, but was saved a broken leg by the full garbage can he’d placed earlier. He hit the can and tumbled to the ground with a groan.

“Fuck!” She yelled, and he scrambled to his feet as she climbed down. 

She landed perfectly, her face a picture of rage as she snarled at him, whereas in contrast he knew he’d gone pale and he could tell his eyes were wide. She moved towards him, but only managed half a step before he lifted a nearby bag of garbage and hurled it at her. She shoved it aside and belted out an almost feral scream, basically a warrior cry.

“Lindsay, no!” He cried out in a panic, and she ran towards him.

He blocked her first punch, a right hook to the face, but flinched when her left fist connected with his gut. He stumbled back a step and she put up a high-kick that he barely managed to stop, her foot an inch from his head.

“Ah! You’re such a badass!” He yelled out in alarm, and realized that nervous rambling was apparently a very ingrained part of his personality.

She launched towards him again, and this time he did more than just block her. She meant to tackle him, thinking her height was an advantage, which was a mistake he often saw from opponents. He shoved her against the wall of the house, and she was temporarily disarmed as he raised his hands in near-surrender, the notepad still clutched in one fist.

“Please stop! I don’t wanna hurt you, I’m such a fan!” Jeremy cried out, and she looked up at him. There was a fire in her eyes, a vein bursting on her reddened forehead, but the scariest thing about her was her sudden grin. A quick flash of white teeth that was akin to a predator, and damn was Jeremy not fond of being prey.

“You honestly think you can?” She asked, and Jeremy realized how fucking terrified he was from the little bit of pee that just leaked out of him. He stood there a moment, stock still, and knew instantly what his next move had to be.

“Nope!” He said, then turned and ran for his life. He was halfway down the street when he realized that he hadn’t heard footsteps behind him, and glanced back quickly to find no one in sight.

At first thought, not having a crazy powerful assassin chasing you would seem to be a good thing, but Jeremy’s heart fell to his stomach. She was gonna get the rest of the gang, and that meant seven people chasing him. A fucking fox hunt.

“Oh, fuck.” He muttered as he tried to think fast. He couldn’t just run through the streets, no way he’d get away from them, and the motorcycle was back in Lindsay’s direction. Besides, if he ran he wouldn’t be able to help them. What he needed to do was hide.

A lightbulb went off in his head as he turned a corner. He knew exactly the hiding spot, and it wasn’t long before he reached it. Matt’s place.

He figured out which house it was, then ran to it. He didn’t want to smash any windows to alert Matt’s parents, but he figured his friend’s would be unlocked, so he grabbed the trellis and climbed up to it. He heard a man yelling in the distance (he couldn’t tell if it was Jack or Ryan) and pulled up the window, hauled his ass in, and slammed it shut before he collapsed on the floor.

“Oh, fuck.” He said again as he panted heavily. “That was so cool but so terrifying.”

He heard a snore, and looked up to see Matt, who he’d only been friendly with on the forums and never met in real life. Jeremy reached up and shoved him, and Matt stirred. He opened his eyes, looked at him distantly, then seemed to comprehend the fact that a stranger was sitting on his bedroom floor, and his eyes went wide. Jeremy sensed his panic and covered his mouth with his hand just as Matt let out a yell.

“Shh!” Jeremy whisper-yelled. “It’s me, JDoolz! From the forum!”

Matt gave him a look that clearly pointed out how bad an explanation that was, but stopped yelling. Jeremy let go of him and gave him a warning look, but he didn’t shout again.

“Why are you in my bedroom?” Matt whispered in bewilderment, and Jeremy glanced to the window.

“It’s a really long story.” He said quietly. “I got into some shit, the whole crew’s after me.”

“What the fuck?” he whisper-yelled. “I’m not consorting with an AH enemy!”

He hit Jeremy with his pillow, and Jeremy pulled it out of his grasp and gave him a look.

“I wasn’t trying to be their enemy. I’ve been, well --” He opened his duffel bag and showed Matt the contents. “I uh, didn’t realize it would land me in this much shit.”

“You’re impersonating them?” He asked, entirely dumbfounded. “Are they even at this safe house?”

“Yeah, and I’m the reason why!” Jeremy explained. “They didn’t pull that heist, I did. But no one fucking knew it was cosplay, so whoever I screwed over on Portola came after the crew!”

“Holy shit.” Matt said as he began to comprehend the situation. “Okay, first off, that heist was cool. The horse was great.”

“Thank you.” Jeremy said, because honestly he was a little hurt that the fires undermined any praise he would get from the AH fanbase. The media was certainly celebrating it, but the real fans were more concerned for the crew’s safety. Understandable, but not the most fun.

“Second, I’m all for helping you, but please don’t break into my room ever again.” Matt gave him a look, and he nodded. “Okay, are they still out there?”

Jeremy looked out the window cautiously.

“They’re still at the house, I see the car.” He reported. “Oh, I can see the door from here, Ryan’s walking back in. Dude, I am not going back out there until I know Lindsay’s gone, she kicked my ass.”

“Well what are you gonna do, sit in here and play Minecraft with me all day?” Matt asked, only half-joking (he wanted to show off his builds). Jeremy tilted his head. It was certainly tempting.

“No.” He decided. “I told myself I would help them, I’m gonna help them.”

“So what’s the plan?” Matt asked, and he thought a moment.

“I can’t get out of here without them catching me.” He said. “So I’ll just wait for them to all go back in the house and I guess continue spying.”

“Solid.” Matt said sarcastically, a real show of faith in his friend. “C’mon, let’s load up Minecraft.”

 

* * *

 

“Okay, as soon as Lindsay gets here we’ll round up our info.” Geoff told his crew. “‘Till then, everyone take a breather.”

Jack sighed with relief as Gavin slammed his head down on the table with a groan. Ray collapsed on the couch and pulled out his DS, Ryan went to the kitchen and pulled a Diet Coke from the fridge.

“I think I’ll take a quick shower.” Michael mumbled, still soaked in blood, but didn’t have a chance to step away before a series of slams sounded out against the door.

Even though they were all exhausted, they instantly stood up, alert and guns raised.

“Michael!” Lindsay yelled out as she pounded on the door. “Geoff! Open up!”

Michael ran to the door and threw it open, and looked her up and down in alarm.

“Someone’s watching you, get out of the house!” Lindsay yelled, and took off with the crew meant to follow.

“Shit!” Geoff yelled and followed her and Michael out. They all raced out, except Gavin, who was grabbing all of his tech and squealing in alarm.

“Gavin, leave it!” Ryan yelled on the porch, then sighed dramatically, shrugged, ran back in and carried him out.

“I don’t know if there’s a bomb or he’s about to burn the fucking place or what!” Lindsay explained to them. “He ran off, we need to chase him!”

“Get him!” Geoff yelled, and they all took off in different directions. “Hey, earpieces!”

They all put their earpieces in and ran down the streets, Michael with Lindsay and everyone else on their own.

“Geoff, I have all my data in there!” Gavin yelped through the earpiece. “What are we gonna do, just leave it?”

“Two of our safe houses were just on fucking fire, Gavin!” Ryan yelled in response. “If we see a guy about to torch the third we don’t collect our laptops, we just run! It’s basic fire safety!”

“I can’t believe I got carried out!” Gavin complained, but Geoff tuned him out a moment.

The third safe house was compromised. They were in the middle of a suburban area with their guns out as all the neighbors were starting to wake up. They didn’t know who was watching them or what that person’s plans were. Everything was, in that moment, a complete cluster fuck. Now would be the time for a good idea.

“Everyone, hold on a sec.” Geoff ordered. “I think I have a plan.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Lindsay, what can you tell us about our spy?” Geoff asked with a slight tremble in his voice, his nerves revealed.

“Had a perfect view inside the place, he was taking notes.” She answered quickly. “No gas canisters or flame starters that I saw, but there was a duffel bag. No earpiece, I don’t know if he had a phone, and I saw one bike and no one else.”

“But that doesn’t mean he’s the only one here.” Jack said, and Geoff ignored him for the moment.

“Gavin, can you tap into security feeds?” He asked.

“It’s a residential area, there are no security feeds.” Gavin said, the panic in his voice evident but at least slightly controlled. “I’ve got my tablet, I can see if anyone leaves the island at the very least, but I can’t get any other views.”

“Perfect, do that now.” Geoff ordered. “Who’s got eyes on the house?”

“Me.” Ryan answered, voice calm and firm.

“Any fires? Any other men?” He asked tensely.

“None, place looks clear.” Ryan answered. “I was never too far from the place for someone to sneak in without me seeing.”

“Okay.” Geoff said. “This guy wasn’t trying to start a fire, he was meant to watch us. So in theory, the house is perfectly safe. Anyone want to test that theory?”

“I’ll go.” Ryan volunteered. “If it’s not safe, it’s because I didn’t keep a careful eye on it.”

“Hold on. Gavin, anyone leaving?” He asked, and got a negative. “That means he’s still here, still watching the house.”

He looked around for a vantage point; there were a lot of trees in the area, which really worked to their advantage, because that meant that the spy had to be up on a roof or inside a home’s second story, and even then his view point would be limited.

“Lindsay, did this guy do or say anything else? Anything at all?” Geoff asked, and there was a moment of silence as she thought.

“He said he was a big fan.” She said finally. “And not in the usual sarcastic tool way -- he seemed pretty excited when I threw him into the garbage.”

“Okay. Gavin, how close are you to Lindsay?” Geoff asked.

“He’s right down the road.” Lindsay answered for him.

“I want the two of you to hide someplace low, lots of trees.” Geoff responded immediately. “Our spy’s gotta be on a roof somewhere.”

“Geoff.” Gavin said, suddenly urgent. “Could this be our copy-cat?”

“No, this is a guy, our imposter’s a girl.” Michael responded, his tone clipped and filled with annoyance.

“What makes you think--”

“Because she wears heels, Gavin, for Christ’s sakes!” Jack yelled.

“Shut up.” Geoff ordered. “He knows what we look like, not just from watching us, but by heart.”

“So we’re extra fucked?” Ray asked wearily.

“No.” Geoff said, and could feel the sweat on his brow. “We’re all gonna go back inside before people start waking up. We’re all gonna stay calm, not blow this shit out of proportion. At most, only the people he’s working for know we’re here, and even if they’re coming for us right now, we’re armed, and we’re about to get ourselves a hostage.”

“If you think so, Geoff.” Jack muttered. “You’re the boss, we have faith in you.”

“Ryan, go in the house.” Geoff ordered. “Don’t sneak, just walk, tell me when you’re in.”

After a stressful minute of silence, Ryan said he was inside.

“Ray, you next.” Geoff said. A few minutes passed. “Now you, Michael.”

“I still don’t understand what we’re doing.” Jack said.

“Shut up and go inside.” Geoff said. “We’re going to take a cue from our impersonator. Gavin, what are you wearing?”

“Black hoodie.” Gavin asked, the confusion in his voice evident.

“Michael, go and find a black hoodie. Put your hood up, sneak out the window and around the yard.” Geoff said. “Then walk into the house normally.”

“I got a hoodie, give me a minute.” Michael responded.

“Lindsay and Gavin, are you two hidden?” Geoff asked.

“We’re on the steps inside someone’s storm shelter.” Lindsay answered.

“Okay, Gavin, keep monitoring security cameras, warn us if anyone goes in or out. And give Lindsay your hoodie so she can cover her hair.”

A minute passed, the tension thick in the air.

“I just walked back in.” Michael said.

“There’s no sign of any bombs or bugs.” Ryan reported from inside. “We haven’t been here in awhile, we’d see disturbed dust if anything was touched.”

“Good, thank you.” Geoff said. “Lindsay, I need you to leave. There’s a novelty and mask shop on Vespucci beach. Get a red wig.”

“Her hair’s already red.” Michael said. “Wait, what are we doing?”

“Hold on, I’m coming in.” Geoff answered. He walked back to the house, shut the door behind him, and took in the sight of most of his crew, staring at him in bewilderment.

“As of right now, everyone except Lindsay is in this living room.” Geoff announced.

“Because Michael went in twice.” Ray said. “Once as himself, again as Gavin.”

“Yes. And now Gavin’s hidden and out of harm’s way.” Geoff said. “And Lindsay’s sneaking out of here to get a read wig. From here, I figure odds are this is gonna go down two different ways.

“One, the spy sees Lindsay sneaking out and he either follows her or gives his position away. I feel that this is the less likely of our options.” Geoff said. “Two, Lindsay returns with the red wig. Gavin walks into the house. Everyone is now accounted for, so the spy moves in for a better look and the real Lindsay takes him out.”

“Bugger me.” Gavin swore. “Why am I the girl?”

“Hey, you get to be my wife.” Michael snapped. “Be fucking grateful that for one minute of your life one singular human being on this Earth is going to think you’re cool as all shit.”

“He shouldn’t be able to see her leaving if his vantage point is aimed towards the house.” Jack mused. “We can actually get this guy.”

“Until then, I think we should round up what information we have so far.” Ryan said, and gave Geoff a look to ask for permission. Geoff nodded and stepped to the side, and Ryan stood in front of the blackboard.

“Our imposter was last seen in a shitty neighborhood that he went to after he returned the chopper. Clearly he--”

“She.” Michael cut in.

“Or she --” He corrected himself. “Is completely solo and broke off her ass because she had nowhere to keep said helicopter.”

“And at any point did you get a picture of her without disguises on?” Michael asked, and Ryan shook his head.

“We found some footage of Michael doing an explosives deal with Miles and Kerry, but we haven’t reached out to them. It was nighttime, though, so I doubt they knew that the real Michael was in a bar that night with us.” Ryan continued.

“Or the real Michael was doing the deal and we were talking to fake Michael.” Ray said pointedly, and Geoff let out a tired huff of laughter.

“Lord I hope not.” Gavin said. “There are some ‘Million Dollars . . . But’ answers that I’d rather not tell complete strangers.”

“Then stop playing that dumb bar game with Burnie. Trust me, I don’t care if you wanna teleport every time you sneeze.” Michael said, angry but only joking around, and gave Ryan a look to continue as Gavin let out a scandalized gasp.

“But that’s all we have on our faker right now.” Ryan concluded.

“If we get out of this, Ray could stake out that neighborhood, but who knows how much luck we’ll have with that.” Gavin spoke into their earpieces. “Lindsay’s on her way back, Geoff, no one else has gone in or out.”

“Excellent.” Geoff said. “Enjoy that wig, Gavin.”

“Uh, he better fucking enjoy being me.” Lindsay said as the earpiece got back into range.

“Ryan, can you keep eyes on security feeds while Gavin’s undercover?” Geoff asked, but Ryan shook his head.

“I don’t know how to do that stuff, all I can do is assist.” He said, but Gavin cut in.

“I’ll open up the program, just sign into my Bluetooth network.” Gavin said, and Ryan rushed over to the laptop. “Wig’s about to get on boys, say goodbye to your favorite Brit.”

“Dan’s not here.” Ray pointed out, and Jack chuckled.

“I’ve got it, I’ll keep an eye out.” Ryan said.

“Okay Gavin, come in. Lindsay, wait and watch. If you see the guy, take him down, but keep him alive.” Geoff ordered. “We need whatever information we’re gonna force out of him.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Lindsay’s given up, she’s heading into the house.” Jeremy said. He’d been watching for awhile now, one eye on the window, the other on Matt’s screen as he showed off his giant Minecraft builds. “I guess that’s my cue to go.”

“Where, back to the roof Lindsay drop-kicked you off of?” Matt asked, and Jeremy grinned. It was pretty nice making a friend, even though it only happened because he was in the middle of a life-or-death situation. 

“No, just nearby. At least so I can see them when they leave the neighborhood. If I can tail them, I can help them.” Jeremy said seriously, then grinned again. “I really don’t want to run into them again, even though Lindsay handing my ass to me was the greatest moment of my life.”

Matt laughed, and Jeremy stood up and opened the window.

“Hey, try not to get killed.” Matt said to him, and Jeremy nodded.

“I’ll text you if I live.” He said, and slid out the window and scaled down the siding.

His reprieve had been fun, but now he had actual work to do. He walked down the street, duffel bag in hand, and headed away from the house, careful to stay in the cover of the trees.

“Argh!” Someone screamed, and before Jeremy could comprehend what was happening, he was slammed onto the ground.

“Ah!” He yelled as he tumbled and his vision filled with red. 

Fucking hell, Lindsay was sitting on top of him, her fist directly in front of his face. She punched him right in the eye and he tried to push her away to no avail. She brought down her fist again, and he felt his lip nick against one of his teeth and begin to bleed.

“Jesus fuck!” He grabbed her arms and rolled her over, and had her pinned down for about a second before her foot landed square in his crotch. “Shit!”

She barked out a laugh like venom as he fell to his side, and she stood up as a great deal of footsteps approached. Oh God, he was fucked, because he knew exactly who was coming and what they were planning to do with him. Blood dribbled down his chin as he sat up and moved for his pistol, more for protection than to actually harm anyone, but it was too late. The footsteps in front of him halted and the safety of a gun clicked, and he looked up to see the most impressively intimidating man he’d ever known.

“Move and you’re dead.” Geoff yelled, and held his gun steady. It was pointed directly at his forehead, and Jeremy knew it was anything but an idle threat.

“Put your hands up.” Jack said, his voice low and deadly, and Jeremy weakly raised his arms in surrender. 

Lindsay, still stood next to him, was suddenly touching him again, and for a moment, he was terrified of the immense pain she was probably going to cause him. But instead, she pulled down one of his sleeves, the one the tattoos were peeking out of, and his heart skipped a beat. This reveal was considerably worse than any physical beating he’d expected, and he looked up to the crew to see them all slack-jawed with shock.

“Holy crap.” Gavin said, and moved forward to get a closer look. There was a red wig perched on his head, and suddenly Jeremy understood everything. For a foolish moment, he was actually proud that he inspired them, before he realized he was about to die, of course. “It is a bloke.”

“That’s fifty dollars.” Ryan said from inside his mask, and Geoff was shaken from his reverie.

“Oh, shut up.” He snapped, and looked distressed. “Get him inside.”

Jack stepped forward and grabbed one arm, and Lindsay grabbed the other, and the pair guided him back to the safe-house. Not that he would’ve tried to run. When they got him in and slammed the door, the pair escorted him past the living room and down into the basement, large and concrete, and handcuffed him to a metal pipe. They searched him for weapons silently, and gave each other a confused look when they started pulling cash out of his pockets and shoes.

But something was bugging him, and if he was set to be tortured and murdered, he was going to do it with his mind clear, so he turned to Lindsay.

“Why did Gavin say ‘it’s a bloke?’ Why wouldn’t I be?” He asked her, and she gave him an uncertain look. It was Jack who answered.

“We thought you were a girl for awhile.” He admitted, but didn’t drop his intimidating demeanor.

“You wore heels.” Lindsay added as she took the knife attached to his ankle away.

“I’m really short.” Jeremy mumbled, his ego slightly wounded.

“I said you were a guy from the beginning.” Lindsay recalled, though she only eased up a fraction. “You didn’t impersonate me.”

“You’re too good at hand-to-hand, I wouldn’t be believable.” Jeremy said honestly, almost comfortable with his captor. And if he had the chance to compliment the great Lindsay Jones, he was going to do so.

“I believe you just made that clear.” Lindsay said with a raised brow, and stuffed the money back into Jeremy’s shoe. She gave Jack a look, and he did the same. They walked off, and Jeremy was left alone to consider what had happened.

Welp. He was gonna fucking die. The coolest death ever at the hands of the greatest people ever, sure, but still. He wasn’t that happy.

 

* * *

 

“Geoff.” Michael called out to him as Jeremy was taken downstairs. “Look at this.”

He set the duffel bag down and pulled out a Hawaiian shirt, a black skull mask, and a wig to match his own hair.

“I can’t believe we just caught our copy-cat.” Ray muttered as he stepped over and pulled out a purple hoodie.

“This means we have nothing to worry about, right?” Ryan asked as he pulled off his mask. “We know he’s not working with anyone, so that means the safe house hasn’t been discovered.”

“Yeah, but why was he taking notes?” Geoff asked, and held up the pad of paper. “‘Also on the forum: Lindsay’s sniffing around the apartment . . .’ What forum?”

“We need to question this guy.” Gavin said as Jack and Lindsay came back up the stairs.

“He’s pretty upset that we thought he was a girl.” Jack remarked as he practically collapsed on the couch. “Can we summarize what information we have before we torture him though?”

“Lindsay, what did you find at the safe houses?” Geoff asked, and she cleared her throat.

“Both had to be the same group. Both were completely torched -- clean, professional, thorough. Nearby security cameras wiped, guard to the apartment complex had his throat slit.” She reported grimly, the exhaustion not absent on her features. “And I didn’t hear any chatter that could trace this back.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get much when I was out ‘sending a message.’” Ray noted, air quotes included. “By the way, horse was clean, we should ask this guy why he stole it just to dump it in the river.”

“He said he was a fan, didn’t he?” Ryan asked, and Lindsay nodded. “We had two major heists go wrong on the bridge above. Gavin broke his leg with that faulty parachute and Michael kept getting the wrong type of plane.”

“I told the guy I wanted a seaplane. Fucking one-seater.” He grumbled.

“It was a gift.” Jack said and looked up at them. “He loves us.”

They looked around at each other; it seemed pretty ludicrous, a guy pulling off a hundred thousand dollar heist just because he liked a gang, but then again, Los Santos was an oddball city. And one run by gangs, no less. Maybe they did get so powerful that their reputation was starting to gain attention, respect, fanfare.

“This guy’s gotta be fucking nuts.” Michael said after a moment. “I’m not sure how much questioning is gonna help us.”

“He might just tell us everything.” Ray pointed out. “If he already loves us and we ask nicely.”

“I’m not sure we _can_ be nice.” Ryan said, brows raised.

“Yeah, fuck being nice.” Geoff said. “If we have to torture the bastard, we will. Jack, what did you get from your Portola investigations?”

“We got jack shit.” Michael cut in, and Gavin gave him a pleased look at his wordplay.

“I did all the research I could, sent Michael out to bribe a few people and rough up a few others, but I got nothing concrete.” Jack answered. “Sure, there’s big guys messing around with those shops, but I found nothing outside the normal embezzling and corruption. Nothing violent, no hiring assassins or putting out hits. I can look harder, though.”

“What about you, Geoff, what did you get from your digging?” Lindsay asked, and he shook his head.

“The cops don’t know what the fuck they’re doing, as usual. Witnesses had no clue it wasn’t us.” Geoff shrugged. “Apparently he used a stolen ‘Jaws of Life’ machine to get the statue off its pedestal.”

“Smart.” Ryan said, impressed.

“Can we all agree that this heist was insanely fucking cool?” Ray asked them all, a rare grin on his face.

“He did mug over a hundred people at once.” Jack said. “While robbing ten stores.”

“With three outfit changes and a solid Gavin impression.” Lindsay added.

“Okay, let’s not suck the guy’s dick.” Michael cut in. “I’m still pissed.”

“Well, let’s turn that anger into productivity.” Geoff said. “Time to question this bastard.”


	8. Chapter 8

The basement door opened, and Jeremy wondered who was the one to come torture him. Probably Ryan. He shivered at the thought, then thought about how cool it would look -- like a dramatic movie or a really good fanfic -- and decided there were worse ways to go.

He’d been so wrapped up in this whole murder-business that he’d forgotten how big a fan he was. How he’d been in their presence for roughly five minutes without asking for an autograph was now beyond him, but now that he had the opportunity to talk to Ryan, surely he’d get to fanboy. Ask for an origin story, tell him to check out some fan-art he saved on his phone.

But there were more than one set of footsteps, and he looked up to find the entire crew, Lindsay included, on their way to question him. And now that he was certainly going to die, he had to appreciate how awesome they looked. They stepped over to him in unison, all of them glowering down at him, and he had to fight back a smile because holy shit were they impressive.

They crowded around him, except Ray, who walked off into another room that he could only assume was full of torture devices and weapons. For a moment, he sucked in a breath, but Ray only returned with a folding chair and set it down in front of him.

“Boss.” He said politely, and Geoff sat down. Interesting tactic, look scary even at a disadvantage. Geoff was only proving yet again that he truly was the greatest crime boss in Los Santos.

“Alright bud, we wanna do this real easy.” Geoff began, his voice stern. “We don’t have to though, keep that shit in mind. Now, let’s start with the basics. What’s your name?”

“Jeremy.” He answered.

“Jeremy.” Geoff repeated slowly, his look shrewd as though he was giving the handcuffed man a very thoughtful examination. “Why did you feel the need to impersonate us?”

It was clearly the answer he really wanted to hear, though not one Jeremy had anticipated he’d want so badly. Everyone was really giving him the same look, with the same curious expression. They didn’t quite understand his fandom, clearly, unsure of his devotion. Maybe Jeremy should’ve considered that their minds would have gone to sinister thoughts instead of good ones.

“I’m a big fan.” Jeremy said, his tone apologetic as Jack and Lindsay shared a look. “I’m good with impressions. Eventually it just occurred to me that I could be all of you. So I set up a heist and did just that.”

“As what?” Jack asked. “A tribute?”

Damn. They really had no idea. He realized he must have been scaring the living shit out of them, and felt a pang of guilt.

“Yeah.” Jeremy answered sheepishly. “A tribute, a cosplay. And I gave you guys a gift, to show you what a big fan I am.”

“Faswan.” Ryan said from behind his mask, and Jeremy nodded.

“It really didn’t look like a gift.” Gavin said. “It looked like a calling card.”

“Maybe to the public, but I thought you guys would know.” Jeremy explained earnestly. “Ryan got it.”

That changed the atmosphere immediately. Everyone exchanged a ‘what the fuck did he just say?’ type glance, all wide eyes and raised brows. The Vagabond stepped forward instantly, and adeptly pulled a knife from his pocket. He grabbed Jeremy by the neck and held the blade against his throat.

“How do you know that name?” He asked, his tone low and deadly, and Jeremy was so frightened he almost peed a little.

“You guys are really bad at remembering code names.” Jeremy stammered. “I hear it on cop dash cams, security footage, stuff like that.”

“Do you know what I look like?” He asked, and Jeremy felt the blade break skin as sweat began to bead on his forehead.

“If I say no will I live a few minutes longer?” He squeaked out, though he wasn’t sure it was the best moment to be cheeky.

Jack let out a huff of laughter, and Ryan stayed stock still a moment, then, thank Christ, drew his hand away. Jeremy slackened as Ryan leaned back up and took a few steps back, and everyone let out a small breath as the tension ebbed away.

“So you pulled your heist.” Geoff continued as though nothing had happened, and they all dutifully turned their attention to him. “Robbed Portola, got away with a shit load of cash. Anything you wanna tell us about that?”

“I am so sorry.” Jeremy said immediately. “I didn’t realize someone would come after you guys, I thought it was a perfect place to pull something like that. This is my fault, I’m so sorry.”

“But you didn’t team up with anyone.” Geoff clarified, and he shook his head. “You have no connection to the arsons? No one hired you to do this?”

“No, no!” Jeremy said fervently. “I’m just a fan, I’m sorry. I know you guys are gonna kill me for this, and it’ll be cool as all hell in a depressing way, but just know that I really didn’t mean any of this to happen.”

“Oh, that makes us feel better.” Michael suddenly spoke up. “You didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt, you’re just a petty thief with a heart of gold!”

“No, no, I just didn’t want you to get hurt.” Jeremy said. “Heart of gold? Fuck the civilians, who cares about them, but I didn’t mean to land you guys in a mess.”

“Is that the only thing you’re gonna apologize for?” Ray asked, brow raised. “Not gonna say anything about pretending to be us, taking our lives away from us?”

“Wearing a fat suit beneath your Hawaiian shirt?” Jack cut in.

“Butchering my accent?” Gavin asked, and Ray elbowed him in the ribs.

“Well I didn’t think you’d get so offended by it.” Jeremy said honestly, his brow knit as he considered that. These total badasses were not only upset that someone was pretending to be them, but they were getting sensitive over their depictions. He kind of expected them to be honored, Ray to be impressed, to receive at least a handshake from Geoff instead of the current death glare.

“I’m only one guy, I couldn’t put on a Hollywood level performance, I didn’t have that budget. So Ryan had to be a sex doll and Ray had to be a laser.” Jeremy said finally, then turned to Jack. “The pillow was only for accuracy, there’s nothing wrong with being chubby.”

“Jesus Christ, this isn’t group therapy.” Michael scowled. “Jack can get his body-positivity outside of questioning prisoners, if you don’t mind.”

“A pillow.” Geoff said to himself, and the corner of his lip began to twitch.

“All good feelings aside, I knew you’d get a kick out of that.” Jeremy couldn’t help but grin for a moment.

“Shut up!” Michael yelled suddenly. “You don’t get to just apologize and laugh it off! You copied me first, you caused a whole ton of unnecessary shit!”

“I’m afraid it’s a bit more personal for my husband.” Lindsay said flatly. She didn’t share his rage, but she would back him up if he needed it. “Considering you killed forty-two people in a bank while wearing your little Michael disguise.”

“Literally.” Ryan muttered.

“Little-rally.” Ray jumped in, and Lindsay turned to glare at them. Just the dirty look at them was enough to scare Jeremy back into talking.

“I needed funds.” Jeremy explained urgently, not too thrilled to have the bloodthirsty Mogar so angry with him. “I couldn’t afford explosives or renting the Combi-Tool I used to break Faswan, I had to take a job! And Joel never would’ve hired a nobody like me for shit that big.”

“Then why pick me, huh?” Michael asked, and Jeremy could tell he’d had the question on his mind for awhile. The exhaustion on his face mixed with the tense anger in his voice, and Jeremy swore his eyes watered for a moment. Poor Michael was never meant to be a target in all this, and Jeremy felt another stab of guilt.

“Ray and Gavin are wrong for that type of thing. Ryan’s too loyal. Jack’s not expected to pull something like that, it would draw suspicion. You were the obvious choice.” Jeremy explained softly. “I didn’t mean to single you out.”

“Geoff thought I betrayed him! Didn’t that occur to you, that I was getting yelled at for your bullshit?” Michael asked.

“No.” Jeremy admitted. “I didn’t think I’d fool you guys, and even if I did, I thought you’d believe each other if you said it wasn’t you.”

“You’re better than we ever could have anticipated.” Geoff mused, his words thoughtful, but then his expression became firm once again. “But enough arguing.”

“Whatever.” Michael huffed. “I’m the one who gets to kill him.”

“That’s fair.” Jeremy agreed, and Geoff rubbed his temples.

“Everyone shut up.” He ordered. “I want you to walk us through your whole idiot plan. You decided you wanted to impress us with a heist, but you needed the funds to do it.”

“I heard Joel wanted to hire someone for a hit on the Pacific Standard, so I tracked down his number and called him as Michael.” Jeremy continued for him. “I didn’t have a lot of explosions to torch the place like the real Michael would’ve used, so I had to steal a RON tanker.”

“Cool as hell.” Gavin commented, and Lindsay nodded in agreement.

“Thank you.” Jeremy beamed. “I went in, killed a bunch of them, a teller realized I wasn’t Michael while he was getting annoyed because he already paid you guys, so I killed him--”

“Wait, what?” Jack stopped him, and Jeremy realized that both him and Geoff were looking at him quizzically.

“I killed the teller?” He repeated hesitantly.

“At Pacific Standard? We don’t take cash from them.” Jack said, brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Jeremy said, and everyone exchanged confused looks.

“Did--” Geoff began, then swallowed hard and suddenly looked infinitely more stressed. “Did Joel say why he hired you?”

“Geoff.” Gavin said in a warning tone, concern laced with scandal.

“No.” Jeremy said. “I don’t understand.”

“Geoff, did Joel do something?” Ray asked cautiously, and Geoff instantly shook his head.

“No, no, it’s just -- it’s just weird. Why would that teller think he paid us?” Geoff asked, his eyes distant. “Something’s wrong. We need to ask Joel why he hired ‘Michael’ for that hit.”

“I can call him right now.” Jack suggested, but Geoff shook his head.

“In person. Surprise visit.” He said, and everyone’s faces became downcast. The meaning was clear; it was easier to lie over the phone, a lot harder when you didn’t know someone was coming for you, and possibly violently.

“Geoff, we shouldn’t doubt Joel, the two of you go way back.” Ryan said, and Geoff mustered the last of his remaining strength to get annoyed at that.

“I am the last person who would turn my back on a friend.” He snapped. “But he must know something we don’t.”

“Then we should get some sleep before we corner him.” Jack proposed, and Geoff made no move to argue with him.

“What about this fuck?” Michael looked down at Jeremy scathingly. “He’s given us all we need, let’s fucking kill him.”

“Jesus!” Jeremy yelped. “Okay, okay, wait a sec. At least tell me what you thought of the heist, at least give me that.”

Because he really was prepared to die in that moment, but he wanted to know that one last important fact before he left.

“It was really good.” Ray spoke up, and Michael gave him an ‘are you fucking kidding me’ look. “You know how impressed we’d be if we saw Funhaus pulling shit like that?”

“You built your own remote.” Ryan added. “That’s smart as hell.”

“Distracting the cops with the Adder getting away, only to reveal it was just a blow-up doll?” Gavin beamed. “Madness! It was wonderful.”

Jeremy broke into a wide grin. Honestly, all of this was a dream come true, now that he thought about it. Captured by the Fakes, interrogated, giving them useful advice and getting compliments on his heist all before being viciously murdered? It was beautiful. He’d succeeded in what he set out to do, in some odd way.

“Ah, thank you guys so much.” He said gratefully, his eyes welled up. “It’s been such an honor, honestly you guys can kill me now, I’m happy with this, I’m content with life now, I can die.”

“Hold on, that wasn’t a shining endorsement.” Gavin said suddenly. “We would never avoid security cameras.”

“And we would never finish a heist without killing anybody, let alone without firing a single shot.” Jack agreed, and Jeremy wilted.

“Not that we’re being too hard on you.” Geoff said, and gave him an almost nurturing look. “You were too focused on technique and forgot to think about style. You gotta loosen up.”

“You’re right.” Jeremy said, in awe after getting advice from the world’s greatest crime boss. “Thank you.”

“Gang, let’s go upstairs.” Geoff said, and stood from his chair.

“What about him?” Michael said again and glanced down to Jeremy with a fire in his eyes. “Can I kill him or what?”

“Not yet.” Geoff answered. “We’ll make sure we got everything and keep him around incase Joel has any questions.”

Jeremy supposed he ought to be thankful that he had a little more time to live, but that time was still going to be spent trapped in a basement dungeon. Oh well, it was a nice life.

“But--”

“Don’t.” Geoff warned, and though Michael wasn’t afraid, he wouldn’t dare talk back to his boss, especially in front of a prisoner. So he eased up, and the group walked back up the stairs.

 

* * *

 

“I figure Joel’s at Maze bank.” Jack said as Ray closed the door behind them.

“I can check.” Gavin said and walked over to his laptop.

“I really doubt this kid Jeremy can give us anything else, Geoff.” Ryan said as he pulled off his mask. “We should just kill him, I’m getting antsy with someone who knows my name and face just sitting around.”

“And what if Joel has questions?” Geoff said as he stepped into the kitchen for a drink. “We’ll wait.”

“We can just explain it, he believed us the first time we said there was an impersonator.” Jack countered, then gave him a suspicious look. “Why are you stalling?”

“You better not be stalling.” Michael complained, and Geoff turned to him.

“How the hell did you get here, Michael? How did we hire you?” Geoff asked him, his voice suddenly scathing.

“You heard about Mogar, saw me in action, and you were impressed.” Michael recalled easily enough, but Geoff narrowed his eyes.

“The day I ‘saw you in action’ was the day you blew up my car.” Geoff said, and Michael’s eyes went wide. “You took out half a city block including my Stinger. I wanted to slaughter you.”

“I never knew that.” Lindsay mumbled to herself.

“No one knew, only Jack.” Geoff said, and everyone looked over to Jack, who only nodded solemnly.

“But yeah, I was impressed. You were amazing, I wanted you on my team.” Geoff said. “And that kid’s the best con I’ve ever seen.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Michael spat. “Destroying a car and nearly killing a whole team are two different things, Geoff! Don’t you care that he put our lives at stake, that we’re still fighting for them?”

“Gavin does that every time he’s in the field.” Ryan said pointedly.

“Hey!” He cried out, but didn’t bother with a denial.

“I’m not saying we’re gonna welcome him with open arms.” Geoff said. “No one needs to give him hugs and tell him he’s family now. I just don’t want him dead yet, that’s all. And you’re gonna stand the fuck down when I’m dealing with this. Clear?”

Michael said nothing, only fumed silently for a moment, and Lindsay muttered something about getting him cleaned up before practically dragging him away.

“It’s been a long night.” Jack said after a tense moment. “We should all get some shut-eye.”

Geoff nodded, and they all retired to their rooms.

 

* * *

 

Six hours later, it was just past two in the afternoon when everyone awoke again. Jack was in the shower while Geoff poured himself an Irish coffee, and Ryan was searching for food in the cabinets when Lindsay stepped in.

“I don’t think he’ll kill that guy against your wishes.” She said to Geoff immediately as though she were a mind reader. “But he’s pissed. He thinks you’re not taking it seriously enough.”

“The kid didn’t mean to get us into this.” Ryan said as he ripped open a granola bar. “And haven’t we gotten ourselves into worse?”

“Damn straight.” Ray agreed as he stepped into the room. His eyes were glazed and red, something Geoff noted with a frown. “And we didn’t do it for the hype, we just dicked around a bunch.”

“I think it’s kind of creepy.” Gavin said as he too came into the kitchen. “But in a sort of nice way, you know? It’s almost cute.”

“Like a puppy who follows you around.” Ryan mused. “Except for the murder bit.”

“Please be referring to the guy in our basement and not the puppy.” Lindsay sighed.

“I’ve told you a million times not to stay up playing video games all night.” Geoff spoke over them to Ray. “Why do you look so tired?”

“I was blazing it up.” Ray responded, but failed to hide a look of displeasure as he left as quickly as he came. If someone didn’t know him, they wouldn’t have recognized the lie, but Geoff was accustomed to this, and let out a small groan.

“So what’s the plan?” Gavin asked after a moment. He’d clearly sensed the difficulty his boss was having. “A few of us here, a few to see Joel?”

“Mind if I make a suggestion?” Michael asked as he walked over and stood next to his wife. The tension was low but still apparent, with both Gavin and Ryan staring curiously and Lindsay standing in an almost defensive position.

Geoff looked to him thoughtfully a moment, and noted that though his features were tight, he didn’t seem to be there to start a battle, so he gave him the benefit of the doubt and nodded stiffly.

“We just got burned. Twice. Let’s go in, all of us together, guns blazing. Show this city who’s boss.” Michael suggested. “All of us together will crush any thoughts of a new gang getting on top.”

“But we can’t leave our boy downstairs alone.” Gavin said, and Michael gave him a pointed look.

“Of course your plan has an agenda.” Geoff mumbled into his coffee.

“He’s right.” Ryan spoke up. “We need to boost morale, show our allies and supporters that we’re still badasses. We should all go in together.”

Gavin bit his lip and looked between the group nervously. Michael looked pretty ready to do the job he’d just described and murder the shit out of Jeremy, Lindsay was standing firm by his side, Ryan looked almost mournful that the best idea involved killing the poor guy. And when he turned to Geoff, he’d expected a reddened face ready to scream, but instead, the man looked thoughtful, though his expression was tense still.

“Hey.” Jack walked in obliviously, hair damp. “I figured I should feed our guy downstairs, let him use the bathroom again. What are we doing with him?”

Geoff took a large swig of his coffee, then looked to Jack, his mind made up.

“Feed him. We’re going into town and we’re taking him with us.” He said, and Michael’s jaw tightened.

“A hostage on the move is more likely lost.” Lindsay said, and in their business it was practically an ancient proverb.

“Usually people are coming to help hostages.” Geoff answered. “Usually your hostage doesn’t want your autograph.”

“Not sure if that was a joke or not, but he did ask me last time I took him to pee.” Jack said, and Ryan snorted.

“Killing him would be easier.” Michael said, but didn’t seem to be in the mood for a full on screaming match, and didn’t make a move beyond that.

“Killing The Vagabond would’ve been easier.” Jack said, and as Ryan opened his mouth, shook his head. “No, that’s not right, that’s a bad example. I just mean we don’t really do shit the easy way.”

Geoff gave Jack a curt nod, then turned to the sink and rinsed out his mug.

“I want everyone ready in a half hour.” He said over his shoulder. “No ifs, ands or buts. Jack, take care of the kid.”

“Will do.” He answered, and Geoff left the kitchen and the uneasy glances that the group exchanged.


	9. Chapter 9

The drive was awkward, to say the least. Ryan, Jack and Lindsay took the bikes, on the grounds that they were the best shots whilst on them. Geoff drove, Gavin sat in the passenger seat, and Jeremy sat very uncomfortably between a sleepy Ray and a quietly simmering Michael. And that discomfort really didn’t just come from the handcuffs behind his back.

Jeremy had been pretty surprised when he was loaded into the car, but eventually figured that they’d show him off as proof to Joel before they executed him. Maybe Joel would even get vengeful over being lied to and do the job himself.

And though things were pretty damn tense, Geoff ignored it and kept a steely gaze on the road, while Gavin went through his phone, though from Jeremy’s position he could see that he was basically hitting his apps at random in an effort to avoid speaking. Inevitably, the silence broke.

“Ray, I’m gonna need you alert, even though you were on your DS _again_ last night.” Geoff said tersely, though kept his eyes on the road. “So you better be awake back there.”

Jeremy looked over to find that Ray was in fact fast asleep, and sensed that there was tension between him and his boss. He could’ve helped Ray out, which might have gained favor with Michael, though his method could’ve caused even more rage. Fuck it, he was a dead man walking anyway.

“I’m awake.” Jeremy answered for Ray with a scoff, his voice soft and flat.

“Good.” Geoff said, his eyes still on the road. 

Gavin was still looking down at his phone, oblivious to what had just happened. Jeremy could feel Michael’s stare from his side, but elected to ignore it for a moment with the sheer satisfaction that he fooled one of the crew from just a foot away.

They pulled up to the Maze Bank Tower, with Ryan, Jack and Lindsay already parked and waiting. Ray shook himself awake, and was bleary-eyed but conscious as Geoff and Gavin turned to look at the backseat.

“Ray, you’re keeping watch out here with the kid while we talk to Joel.” Geoff said, and Michael gave him a look.

“Joel likes Ray the most.” Michael said tactically. “I can watch him.”

God no, that would be too fucking horrifying. He sent out a small prayer that that shit didn’t happen.

“Why don’t we just bring him in?” Gavin asked, then looked directly to Jeremy. “Would you like that, Jeremy?”

Jeremy’s eyes widened in surprise. A Fake talking to him, asking his preferences! Addressing him by name! Gavin said his name _Oh My God_ was he delighted.

“Shut up.” Geoff said, effectively bursting Jeremy’s bubble. “Ray needs to keep an eye on the kid and any threats out here, and we all know he has the best eye. Now everyone else, come with me.”

He hopped out of the car, and Gavin followed wordlessly. Michael, however, remained a moment, and turned to look Jeremy directly in the eye. Yeah, pretty terrifying.

“You’re fucking yourself over, you know that?” He asked, but wasn’t looking for an answer. “Getting all excited. This is gonna end with your brains all over the wall, so don’t get your fucking hopes up.”

“I’m not.” Jeremy answered honestly. “I know you guys are gonna kill me, you’ll probably be the one to do it.”

Michael was taken aback, and Jeremy decided to be brave for a moment.

“But you put your life on the line for this crew every day.” He said. “Aren’t we both ready to die for the same cause?”

Michael gave him a hardened look, and Ray leaned over, ready to intervene, but after a moment he opened his door and slid out without a word, and Jeremy let out a sigh of relief.

“Well that was fucking intense.” Ray said immediately, then reached into his pocket. “Hey, bend over, I’m gonna penetrate you.”

“What?” Jeremy asked, momentarily confused, then Ray pulled a small silver key from his jeans. “Oh. Handcuffs.”

Ray humor. Jeremy positioned himself so Ray could undo one handcuff, then brought his hands around and rubbed his wrist gratefully.

“I’m not releasing you.” He said seriously. “I’m gonna hook you up in the front, just to make you more comfortable.”

“Thank you.” Jeremy replied, and held out his hands to be captured again. “You didn’t hear what happened before, did you?”

“What?” Ray asked as he fastened the handcuffs and slipped the key back into his pocket.

“Uh, well.” Jeremy shrugged, self conscious with the knowledge of what he’d done. “Geoff said something like ‘you better not be asleep back there,’ and you were, so I just said no, you were awake. But I said it as you.”

Ray squinted his eyes and tilted his head. He wasn’t angry as Jeremy had expected, merely curious.

“Show me.” He said, and Jeremy nodded.

“I’m awake.” He repeated, then elaborated. “I mean, YOLO, right?”

Ray was clearly impressed, and nodded as Jeremy broke into a bashful grin.

“Pretty close, man. That’s really cool.” Ray said, and Jeremy grew red with a blush. “I’ll be sad to see you go.”

Oh right, because his best friend was going to murder him. That little detail.

“Look, I’m gonna hit the hay.” Ray said, and shifted in his seat. Jeremy slid over to give him room, and he gave him an appreciative look. “Don’t try to escape, I’m a light sleeper.”

“I’ll keep watch.” Jeremy agreed. If Ray wasn’t going to be keeping guard, he ought to make sure someone was keeping the crew safe. He couldn’t even attempt to flee with the knowledge that he’d be leaving the crew at risk.

“Nudge me when they come out.” Ray said, and settled down, and Jeremy sighed and stared out the window.

 

* * *

 

The whispers of employees as they walked down the hallway were an adrenaline rush. People’s eyes went wide, gasps filled the air, they dropped their papers as they rushed to get out of the way. The Fakes had returned, still intimidating, still powerful, still with Geoff stood in the lead and everyone else following in his wake, all menacing glares and shining guns.

They walked through the main hall and over to someone who might’ve been the manager, and Geoff only had to glance at the man to cause him to quake in fear.

“Elevator?” He asked simply, and the man lead him over and pointed to it with a trembling hand.

“Thanks.” Jack said as they all piled in. As the doors closed, Geoff spoke again.

“You guys know the drill. I’ll talk, come in when you need to.” He said, and they took the rest of their ride in unpleasant silence.

On the top floor, they stepped out to see a series of offices, with all the higher-ups at the bank inside. Each did a double-take as the infamous AH Crew as they walked past, and when they got to the heavy mahogany of Joel’s office, a familiar face appeared.

“He in there?” Geoff asked, his voice low, and Adam nodded and let them go without a word. Undoubtedly he would tell someone at Rooster Teeth about their presence, but there was no need to be concerned with that.

They slammed open the doors without knocking, and Joel looked up from his desk in mild confusion.

“Geoff, hey!” He greeted, but his smile fell as the rest walked in. “Uh, hey guys.”

“Hey.” Geoff replied curtly. “We have a couple questions for you.”

“Whoa, I know the drill man, I wasn’t always corporate.” Joel said, and clearly knew the tactic they were working with. “What’s with the hostility?”

“There’s no hostility.” Geoff answered, his tone real fucking hostile. “If you answer the questions we ask there won’t be an issue.”

“Take it easy.” Joel said calmly, his expression stern as he tried to keep things under control.

“Why did you hire Michael to hit Standard Pacific?” Geoff asked, and Joel glanced to Michael.

“You said that was an imposter.” Joel recalled, and Geoff nodded.

“He’s down in the car, if you want to see him.” He said, and Joel winced. He must have thought the man had been tortured, severely beaten at the least. That would usually be an accurate guess in their business, especially when one dealt with the Fakes. “But you still hired someone.”

“Let me ask you something, Geoff. Is it any of your goddamn business who I hire?” Joel asked, his expression stubborn and his patience clearly faded as though a chord had been snapped within him. Geoff could tell he was evading the question.

“It’s my business when my safe houses are destroyed and my crew is hurt!” Geoff said, and his volume began to rise.

“So after you pull one of the most detrimental heists this city’s ever seen on a bunch of businesses that were better left alone, you came to me?” Joel asked, brows raised. “Having trouble connecting the dots there, Geoff?”

“We are looking into the Portola stores.” Geoff answered, rage apparent on his face. “We’ve found nothing yet. But here’s what we do fucking know, Joel, we know that someone in that bank was trading cash for our protection, but we didn’t do a single fucking deal with that bank.”

Joel paled, barely noticeable, but it was enough for an old friend to see, and it only made him angrier.

“So yeah, I’d really like to fucking know why you decided the forty people in that bank had to die.” Geoff nearly yelled, and Joel put up his hands defensively.

“Look, I don’t know, maybe someone got confused. Maybe they’re paying off the Rooster Teeth Syndicate and just thought that the Fakes are still with us!” Joel said. “I don’t know that shit, I only do the Maze Bank accounting, but I can ask around--”

“If Rooster Teeth is working with Standard, why the fuck would you pull a hit on them?” Geoff shouted. “Why would you not know? How could Rooster Teeth not have seen it coming or punished you afterwards?”

“I don’t know.” Joel insisted, though his volume had gone a little higher. “I just told you I don’t know anything about Pacific.”

“Then why did you put out that hit?” Geoff asked, and Joel gave him a dark look. He settled back into his chair, his expression strained with a feigned air of calm.

“Private matters.” He answered easily enough. “You don’t need to know.”

“I don’t need to know?” Geoff said, aghast. “I’ve been your friend for years! What, are you embarrassed? You buy some weird porn and it showed up on your credit card statement?”

Gavin snorted in the background, and Joel blushed but remained resolute.

“My business is my business.” Joel said with a firm look. Suddenly, Geoff leaned in and grabbed him by his shirt collar, tired of his antics.

“You think I’m not gonna go to RT on this?” Geoff hissed. “I’m making a meeting with Burnie right fucking now, I am warning him all about your rogue bullshit. You better tell me what’s going on right this second or I am walking out of here.”

Joel studied him intensely in attempt to spot a bluff, but Geoff Ramsey wasn’t one to lie.

“I haven’t done anything.” He said after a stiff moment. “But if I did, you’d really rat me out? Your old friend?”

Geoff’s hands literally shook with anger, and after a moment, he released Joel’s collar and turned away, too enraged to continue. Gavin stepped forward out of nowhere, and delivered an unexpected and incredibly forceful slap across Joel’s face. Joel toppled from his chair, and Gavin turned away to catch eyes with a questioning Jack.

“Just because Geoff’s keeping together doesn’t mean I have to.” He said, his voice low and seething. He’d revealed an unexpected protective streak. He looked to Geoff, who was unsurprised, and nodded. “Cheers, boss.”

Joel got up from the floor,and the left side of his face was glowing almost comically red. He looked as astounded as he did irritated, and for a moment Geoff thought he had him, but he quickly regained what he could of his composure and hauled himself back into his chair.

“I’ll see you around, Joel.” Geoff spoke once more. “We’re still friends, you know that?”

“We’re great friends, Geoff.” He responded calmly. “And look where this friendship has gotten us.”

Geoff glared at him, then turned and stomped out, and Gavin gave him one final dirty look before he too departed. As soon as they got into the elevator, they awaited their commands.

“Gavin, I want you to hack into Pacific Standard, see if you can find any repeated transfers over to someone within Maze bank.” Geoff said, and Gavin nodded.

“Why not just hack Joel?” Ryan asked, and Gavin shook his head.

“I helped design the RT security, it’s tight. Easier to find a trail from Pacific.” He said.

“It’s still a bank, won’t it be difficult?” Jack asked, and when Gavin scoffed, rolled his eyes. “Alrighty.”

“I want someone on the bikes to swap out with Ray, ride ahead and scope out Burnie’s.” Geoff commanded. “I’ll hand that to you, Lindsay.”

“Am I watching the prisoner?” She asked, and he nodded.

“We could take him in. It’s Burnie, what does he care?” Jack asked as the elevator door opened.

“If we’re gonna pull something this fucking extreme we’re not gonna have the kid we’re baby-sitting in there.” Michael said as they walked out briskly.

“Michael’s right.” Geoff said as they reached the door. “Warning your boss that his best friend and top guy is undermining him, basically a traitor? This isn’t gonna be pretty.”

They stepped out into the sunlight, and a woman screamed and ran when she realized who she was looking at. Coming out together definitely had the affect they’d wanted. Jack and Ryan marched off to their bikes, and Lindsay went to the car with the rest and rapped on Ray’s window. When he opened the door, Geoff noted his obvious exhaustion, and the way he clutched at his side as though someone had just elbowed him in the ribs, though he said nothing.

“Switch with Jones.” Geoff ordered. “We’re going to Burnie’s, get on a bike and get to a sniping position just incase.”

“Yessir.” Ray said, and hopped out of the car. He tossed Lindsay the handcuff keys as the rest of the group piled in. From Joel to Burnie, damn. Jeremy had to assume that things were pretty fucked.

“Michael, drive, I wanna call Burnie.” Geoff said shortly, and sat in the passenger seat as Gavin got out and moved to the back.

“Your handcuffs are in the front now, Jeremy.” Gavin noted as he sat beside him. It was a lot better than sitting next to raging bull Michael Jones, though on his other side sat the man’s wife, and each time Jeremy glanced over to her visions of the two times she absolutely kicked his shit in danced in his mind.

He could only guess again that the meeting went badly, given Geoff’s dour expression and the speed at which the three men on the bikes took off. Maybe his first thought should’ve been something like ‘oh shit, they’re gonna be extra murderous now and I’m conveniently placed in handcuffs right freaking here,’ but instead he couldn’t help but revel in the drama. Like, their endangered livelihood aside, this was all pretty goddamn fun, especially for the dead man walking. 

Still, he wanted to know more. He was just sitting around while Ray took a cat nap, after all, he wanted to know a little bit of what went on in there.

As Michael turned on the car, Jeremy leaned over to Gavin. He trusted that if anyone gave him information, it would be him, just from how friendly he’d been so far. Of course, friendly meant using his name and not threatening to kill him.

“Did I help?” He asked Gavin quietly.

“Shut up back there.” Michael immediately cut in, his tone forceful, then did the closest thing to being reasonable around Jeremy and made an insulting joke. “Fucking recommend fanfic to your own kind.”

“There’s this really good one--” Jeremy forgot himself and began to gush, but shrunk back when he remembered his situation.

“Hey.” Gavin muttered under his breath. “You helped.”

Jeremy grinned. Thank God the job he picked was the one that helped the crew, and saved his ass just awhile longer. He figured that even though his usefulness had probably ran up, and Michael would probably shoot him in the face as soon as it was convenient, at least he did something for them.

“I wanna hear about this fanfiction.” Lindsay said, and Jeremy wondered if she felt bad about his impending death by the hands of her husband or if she was just trying to be friendly. He looked up to see Michael’s eyes on the road, stiff but not focused on their conversation, so he turned to Lindsay and attempted not to look like too much of a geek.

“So it’s an AU where Geoff is a soldier in Halo--”

“Hey, Burnie.” Geoff spoke into his phone. “Yeah, I need a meeting with you ASAP. Major emergency.”

Jeremy stopped speaking to Lindsay, both out of respect for Geoff and to shamelessly listen in. It was the biggest badass in Los Santos talking to one of the founding fathers of modern crime, after all, and he was gonna fucking listen.

“No, I’m not kidding.” Geoff said in all seriousness. “I can’t tell you over the phone. I’m not bringing any danger to you, but I’m heading over.”

There was a silence as Burnie spoke on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, it’s bad.” Geoff said in a softer voice. Jeremy couldn’t imagine what had happened in their meeting. “I’ll see you in a few.”

After Geoff hung up, the air in the car turned somber, and Jeremy didn’t continue his conversation. They headed up to Vinewood Hills, which was pretty surreal for Jeremy, because if what Geoff said was true, he had to suspect that he was about to see the private home of the great Michael ‘Burnie’ Burns. Which totally meant they either brought him there without thinking or they knew they were close to killing him. Somehow he doubted it was the former.

Lindsay gave him a nervous glance as they pulled up to a large, luxurious home and found three bikes and two people waiting for them. She must have figured out the same thing he did. Ray, in the distance, blinked his laser onto the dash to indicate where he was, and Geoff gave a small wave as he exited the car.

“Watch him.” He said to Lindsay, who nodded as they all walked up to the gate. It opened, and the five of them began their ascent.

They all held different levels of trepidation, but all knew one universal truth -- this shit was not going to be pleasant.  



	10. Chapter 10

When Ryan rang the doorbell, it was answered quickly, but not by Burnie. Instead it was an old friend who ushered them inside wordlessly and gestured for them to follow him down the hall.

“What brings you here, Jon?” Geoff asked in attempt to cast away the tense silence, and Jon shrugged.

“I could ask you the same.” He replied easily. He didn’t seem to know the delicate nature of their shitty situation, which was fine by them, as long as he didn’t go digging.

“Shut the hell up, Risinger, he asked you a question.” Ryan said, and Jon looked slightly alarmed.

“Jesus, I hosted a peace negotiation this morning and Burnie asked for the report.” He answered, and Geoff nodded.

“I wouldn’t call what you do ‘peace negotiations.’” Michael said flatly as they arrived to the closed door of Burnie’s office.

“Hey, I got you and Andy to cooperate eventually.” Jon said, then gave the rest of the group a grimace. “He had a couple beers and took his dick out, but it worked, didn’t it?”

“Wanna see it again, you punk bitch?” Michael asked as Gavin squawked.

“Whip it out!” Jon responded daringly, and Geoff shut his eyes and sighed.

“Okay, we’re done.” Jack cut in, and Michael gave Jon a warning look.

“Next time, buddy.” He said, and Jon nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh my god, leave.” Geoff groaned, his hand held up to knock on Burnie’s door.

“Before we make you.” Ryan said darkly, and Jon didn’t know him well enough to take it lightly. Wide-eyed, he left without another word, and Geoff rapt on the door.

“Come in.” Burnie called out, and Geoff swung it open.

Burnie was sat at a large table with his laptop. While a usual home office had just a desk, the father of crime in this city was rather unfortunately used to dealing with groups, either gangs or teams of mercenaries, so he was well prepared with a conference table. Geoff stepped in, with the rest of the group in tow.

“When you said this was dire, I didn’t expect that I’d have to wait for your jerk-off session with Risinger to end for you to tell me about it.” Burnie said, his expression stern but his tone forgiving.

“They’re nervous.” Geoff answered as they filed into their seats. “This is a real heavy issue.”

“So you mentioned.” Burnie said, his tone slightly worried now. “Where are Ray and Lindsay? Did someone die?”

“God no.” Jack said.

“I wouldn’t be sitting here so calmly if my best friend or my wife were even remotely in danger.” Michael added, his expression grown dark at the thought of it.

“What we need to talk about. . . “ Geoff sat and gave him a concerned look, his voice gone gentle as he tried to deliver bad news to an old friend. “It’s bad. It’s more than someone dying.”

Burnie seemed to trust that what Geoff was saying was serious, and he went thin-lipped as he closed his laptop.

“I’m listening.” Burnie said carefully.

“I can’t beat around the bush. I know you, I know I oughta give it to you straight.” Geoff said, though he couldn’t match a brave face to those strong words. He looked down at his folded hands before he continued. “Joel’s been fucking around under your nose. Undermining your authority. He’s uh--”

He glanced over to Jack, who gave him an encouraging nod, and sucked in a breath.

“He’s gone rogue.” Geoff finished with a sigh, and Burnie gave him a confused look.

“Joel?” He asked incredulously, and Geoff nodded. “What the hell makes you say that?”

“He hired Michael to hit Pacific Standard, and when he was in there he found out that someone’s apparently paying us for our protection.” Geoff said. “Joel knows something about it, but he won’t say what. Either you’ve got something going on that he undermined or he’s operating private business under RT’s name, _our_ name.”

Burnie gave them a firm look, his expression vague. He shifted in his chair, maybe while the words fully sunk in.

“Geoff.” He began slowly. “You look stressed.”

“What?” Jack blurted out, and Geoff gave Burnie a look of annoyance.

“Of course I’m stressed. Do you see the shit we’ve been dealing with lately?” Geoff asked with raised brows, and Burnie nodded solemnly.

“Someone got both your safe houses after your Portola Heist, yeah, I’ve heard.” Burnie recalled, though not with absolute accuracy thanks to a certain small someone. “Where are you guys even staying right now?”

“What does that matter?” Gavin cut in, his voice unexpectedly bitter. “Joel’s a damned traitor, shouldn’t that be your main concern right now?”

“Gavin.” Ryan said in a warning tone, but Burnie lifted his hand, and the pair fell silent.

“Joel is a friend.” He said calmly.

“Burnie--” Geoff began, but Burnie lifted his hand once more.

“That does not automatically mean he’s innocent.” He continued, and Geoff sighed with relief. “But look at you. All of you. This is too much for you to deal with.”

Geoff couldn’t disagree with that. Just a glance over to his men showed their lack of sleep, their anger, their disappointment. The loss of a friend through traitorous means. Michael’s curly hair was laid flat, Gavin’s expression was hollow, Ryan looked ready to take a nap in his chair.

“We both know that he’s not the most mentally stable person.” Burnie said to Geoff, his voice infinitely soft, and Geoff felt almost as though this wasn’t something the rest of the crew should hear; it was all of their business, but it was still he and Burnie’s old friend. “And we’ve both worried about him in the past. So we’re not gonna turn this into a witch hunt.”

Geoff paused thoughtfully a moment, his expression pained.

“I get what you’re saying.” He finally grimaced, because he knew the worry they’d both felt all too well. “So where do we go from here?”

“I want all of you to go back to wherever you’re hiding out.” Burnie said, though it was too gentle to be a real command. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”

“How?” Jack asked. “He wouldn’t answer any of our questions, there’s no telling if he’ll go to you with an admission.”

“I’ll go around that, gather up some evidence he can’t refute.” Burnie said sternly, and looked thoughtful as he tried to figure out how he would do so. But the gang merely exchanged a few rather unsure glances.

“Again, how?” Michael dared to ask, and ignored Geoff’s warning look. His boss clearly agreed with him, but wouldn’t accept back-talk no matter what the situation. “Bug his office, spy on him? How do you know he’s in this alone?”

“You can pick people in your unit to spy on him, but if you pick just one person wrong, you’re fucked.” Ryan continued wisely. “In fact, if you were smart, you wouldn’t tell a goddamn soul.”

“That’s enough.” Geoff cut in.

“We can help you.” Gavin ignored him. “We can be your elite team. We already have a personal stake in this.”

“Whoever burned our safe houses wasn’t some guy working a deal in Portola.” Jack explained, and Burnie raised his brows. “It has something to do with that bank, the fact it happened after the heist was just--”

“What, coincidence?” Burnie asked, kind but skeptical. “There is no coincidence in this field, boys, that’s one of the first lessons.”

And most of those early lessons were learned from him. They could all tell that he was trying to protect them, they all knew how bad they looked, how stressed they were, but Burnie was a damned fool if he thought any of them would give this up without a fight.

“Wait.” Geoff said, then gazed at his group thoughtfully. “Maybe the fact that these fires happened just after the heist was because our arsonist knew we wouldn’t be in either safe house.”

“The plan was never to hurt us, only to warn us.” Jack caught on, his expression prudent.

“Warn us to stay away from this.” Michael said, and it was an odd moment to think of Ray, but he knew that his friend would insist they do exactly that.

“Well it’s a little late for that.” Gavin said, and turned to Burnie. “You’re gonna need help with this. I had a hand in the RT security’s design, let me use your server get to his emails.”

“Ray can tail him.” Ryan added helpfully. “I can be the muscle.”

“Guys.” Burnie cut in. “You’re a mess. Let yourselves heal from this.”

“Burnie, you know I respect your wishes.” Geoff said. “But my gang’s right on this one. Like we said, shit’s personal, and you need people you can trust.”

“I have an entire syndicate I can trust.” Burnie said flatly. “And I will protect you. All of you. That’s a solemn promise, and Geoff, you know my word is law.”

Geoff sat back. If Burnie said he would help them, he would. And if he thought he knew what was best for them, Geoff could only bite his tongue and let Burnie take charge.

“I want as many updates as possible.” Geoff said, and purposely ignored Gavin’s displeased expression. “And as soon as you need us, tell us so we can be here for you.”

“Deal.” Burnie said reasonably, and stood from his chair while the rest followed suit. “But seriously, protect yourselves. Be careful and stay out of danger.”

“For once, we actually might.” Geoff smirked, and Burnie gave him a dower grin as the pair shook hands.

“It’s all gonna be okay.” He assured them, and the group walked out without another word, a doubtful air hanging in their absence.

 

* * *

 

“. . . So that’s when you come in as the leader of the resistance--”

Jeremy was cut off when the car doors opened, and Geoff got into the driver’s seat as Gavin got into the passenger’s and Michael sat in the back. Not the seating arrangement Jeremy was hoping for, and not exactly the tone, either. He’d been optimistic for a ‘haha, what a wild misunderstanding!’ deal, not a series of weary glares and dragging feet.

“Text Ray, tell him to meet us back at the Vespucci house.” Geoff said to Gavin, his tone exhausted. Clearly they didn’t have the best meeting.

Gavin only nodded, and Geoff turned the key and shifted into gear. They drove off in silence, and Jeremy was wise enough not to continue with his story, despite Lindsay’s more than obvious disappointment shown on her pouty expression.

“Are we really gonna do what he said?” Michael asked glumly after a few minutes. “Just sit back and do nothing?”

Jeremy almost laughed. No fucking way was that happening.

“I think so.” Geoff answered, and Jeremy had to bite his tongue. No! No doing nothing! You’re supposed to be badasses! Blow something up for fuck’s sake! “He knows what he’s doing.”

“He doesn’t know who he can trust.” Gavin said, his tone unsure. “I don’t think it’s a lot of people, but it’s bound to be someone up high. Maybe Barb knows.”

“Maybe it is Barb.” Michael countered immediately, barely a hint of a joke in his voice. “High enough up the ladder to help Joel and cover it up.”

“Come on, guys, let’s not throw around accusations.” Geoff said. “Burnie’s right, we’re too anxious, too paranoid. We need to take a break. Let’s go back to the house and take some time to ourselves.”

“After you fill me in.” Lindsay spoke for the first time.

“We’ll lock him up and tell you everything.” Michael said across from her as he gave Jeremy the usual dirty look.

As much as he lamented not getting the same information the rest of the crew had, he was pretty elated that Michael said ‘lock up’ instead of ‘gut him and leave him in the street,’ which was typically his more common suggestion. But even as he focused on all of this, he kept notice of something a tad worrisome from the corner of his eye.

“I think we have a tail.” He said, and saw Geoff glance into the rear-view mirror. “Blue sedan, five cars back.”

“How the hell did you notice that?” Gavin asked as he turned around and strained his eyes.

“Face forward.” Geoff ordered, and Gavin turned back in his seat. “Stay calm and inconspicuous, make them think we’re unaware.”

“Shit.” Lindsay hissed, her hand already wrapped around a grenade. “What’s our move?”

“Get Ray on the phone, now.” Geoff said to Gavin, and he dialed frantically.

“What’s up?” Ray asked nonchalantly as his voice came through the speaker, and Geoff spoke.

“Where are you?” He asked quickly.

“Probably less than five miles behind you.” He answered. “Are you on the freeway?”

“Yeah. Gonna need you to catch the fuck up and fire into our rear windshield.” Geoff said curtly, and slowed down ever-so-slightly. “Don’t hit anyone.”

“No problem, I’ll be there in a minute.” Ray replied.

“Make sure no one sees you. Watch out for a blue sedan.” Geoff commanded.

“I’ve got a helmet and I’ll stay out of sight.” Ray said, and Geoff hung up.

“So he’ll shoot through the windshield, you’ll slam the breaks, our follower has to choose if they wanna drive past or out themselves and stop as well.” Lindsay explained, and Jeremy fought a grin. That was some clever shit, and well rehearsed.

“Gavin, are there any ketchup packets from fast food in the glove compartment?” Jeremy asked, and Gavin glanced nervously to Geoff’s tense, yet not openly disapproving expression before rifling through it. Perhaps he didn’t want to be seen taking orders from dead meat.

“Here.” He tossed the packets back, and Jeremy caught them with chained hands and slid down in his seat. He held the three packets up towards the windshield and lifted his eyes over to Michael. His explanation died in his throat at the studious look the other gave him, not angry but not quite approving. There was something dark in his eyes as he spoke up.

“You’re used to these theatrics, aren’t you.” Michael said bluntly, in reference to the very reason he was handcuffed in their car in the first place. The con they all hated so much, now here to help, faithfully and without question. Maybe Michael was still bitter as all hell, but there was no way he didn’t notice that.

Two shots went through the rear windshield, and Jeremy tore the packets and burst them onto the glass as the center console in front of him basically exploded with the two rounds pumped into it. It wasn’t the best looking blood spatter, but it would do. Geoff slammed the breaks, and the blue sedan moved forward.

“Time to lose this bastard.” Geoff snarled.

The follower moved into the left lane, and slowly approached, then moved ahead of them, and Geoff slammed the gas. The other car realized they’d been found out and booked it as well.

“Oh no you’re not.” Geoff hissed, and as they approached the bridge, Jeremy realized exactly what Geoff meant by ‘losing them.’

“Brace yourselves!” Lindsay yelled, and their car slammed into the other. There was a screech of tires on pavement as the other attempted to brake, then spun out, and in an instant, slipped over the edge and disappeared from view. Geoff pulled away at top speeds, and a great crash sounded out below, the twist and collapse of metal ringing in their ears.

“Colton!” Gavin screamed as he tried to eye the scene they were departing. “That was Colton driving!”

“Shit!” Michael yelled as Jeremy sat back up.

“We never should’ve trusted the new guy.” Lindsay said, her voice clearly frustrated as she slammed her fist down on her knee. “Damnit!”

“Fuck me, I liked him.” Geoff muttered, a fire in his eyes. “But clearly he’s corrupted Joel somehow.”

“Who clearly ran to Colton the moment you threatened a meeting with Burnie.” Michael said pointedly. “Let’s not treat him like a total innocent.”

“You’re both missing the bigger picture.” Lindsay cut in. “He had our location. It’s possible our safe-house was compromised.”

“Does anyone have my phone?” Jeremy asked, and Gavin looked back at him, bug-eyed with alarm.

“You have someone watching our safe-house?” Geoff yelled as Gavin knit his brows and Michael stiffened beside him. Jeremy almost pissed himself as he rushed out a panicked reply.

“No, no! Well, he was watching anyway--” Geoff turned beet red. “I mean he’s nearby. He can tell us if something’s wrong!”

Maybe he shouldn’t have recommended that, given how close everyone looked to drawing their guns and just shooting him in the head already. Geoff’s knuckles were practically white on the steering wheel as he choked out a reply.

“Give him his phone.” Geoff said, his fury controlled but evident.

“Are you kidding me?” Michael yelled, and Jeremy practically went deaf. “He’s got a spy on our safe-house!”

“We’ll deal with it later, we do not have another option!” Geoff yelled back as Gavin handed Jeremy his phone with trembling hands. “I am not putting you guys in danger just because you’re too proud--”

“Too proud? Too proud to trust a con?” Michael screamed as Jeremy’s phone turned on and lit up.

“Too proud to trust a fan!” Geoff retorted, and Michael gaped.

_Text From Jeremy, 12:18 p.m: I’m still alive, for now. What’s up at Vespucci?_

“Is that what this is for you? Are you enjoying the glory, boss, glad to have a fanboy around to worship your every move?” Michael asked, his tone vicious.

“Michael--” Lindsay warned, but was flung by a sharp turn from Geoff.

“Don’t talk back to me, you turd, you know I hate that!” Geoff replied, his voice dangerously low.

_Reply From Matt, 12:19 p.m: Um, wtf??? There’s a bunch of guys here casing the place._ “Stop it, stop fighting!” Gavin squealed and turned in his seat to Michael. “You won’t trust our little friend because all this face-swapping’s not your deal, I get that! But now’s obviously not the time!”

Michael’s jaw tightened and his stare grew hard, but he said nothing. It was obviously true, and he couldn’t deny a soft-spot for Gavin that kept his biting tongue at bay. Jeremy took advantage of the reprieve.

“Someone’s at the Vespucci house.” He spoke up, though his voice wavered. Geoff sighed, and the car slowed as his expression changed from angry to just weary once more.

“Let’s find a hotel.” Lindsay said, and Gavin turned back in his seat.

“I’ll text the others.” His voice was soft as well. Shit, this was one tense car.

“Tell them to turn around and meet us at The Richman.” Geoff said.

The next few minutes were spent in silence. Ultimately, Gavin was the first to make the dumbass move to speak.

“Well this is bloody stressful, innit.” Gavin said, and was met with blank stares. “Oh, come on, guys, do you really want to sit in the middle of a fight the whole way?”

Jeremy hung his head. Though the drama was clearly between Geoff and Michael, he couldn’t help but recall the conversation. The one about him, the anger Michael still had for impersonating them, for being a con-man in the first place.

“Do you really not like me because I’m a con?” Jeremy turned to Michael, his words soft but clearly daring since they were on this subject.

“You’re the super-fan, aren’t you? Haven’t you figured out what makes us different from every other group of crooks in this city?” Michael asked bitterly, but didn’t bother to wait for an answer. “We’re not liars.”

Jeremy really couldn’t argue with that. The way people looked at cons just differed, and for Michael, it was the worst that he saw within him. When he didn’t answer, Michael looked over to Geoff.

“I get that you don’t think it’s as big a deal. Gavin almost kills us tripping over his own fucking feet, and this kid’s not even the one fucking us over.” He said hesitantly, but Geoff remained silent, albeit attentive. “But we’re a family and we stick together, and you were letting that fall apart because you got impressed.”

“And you were letting that fall apart because you were angry and self-righteous.” Geoff bit back, and Michael made no move to argue. “So how about we square this shit away until all this is over?”

Michael thought a moment, then shrugged. “Okay. Deal.”

“Then what happens to Jeremy in the meantime?” Lindsay asked warily. She wasn’t one to get in the way of a peace treaty, but there was of course still a problem to be dealt with. Geoff and Michael both turned to him, each feared in their own right and both deserving, and Jeremy really didn’t like being the problem.

“I know it’s lying.” He spoke up, then looked pointedly to Michael. “But it’s -- it’s playing pretend. I don’t lie in real life about real shit. Yeah, in costume I had to let Joel suspect Lindsay was pregnant, but that was the best cover story, especially since it was just him filling in the blanks.”

“He filled in a pretty big one.” Lindsay said, brows raised, and Michael beamed at her.

“We’re not telling Joel when you get pregnant, that’s for fucking sure.” He said to her, his voice as fond as it always was for his wife. 

“Hey, if you need a non-pregnant Lindsay on a case, let me know.” Jeremy said with a small grin, and turned back to face the front. There was a moment when he expected someone to point out that he would never live to see that shit, but the camaraderie continued. 

“Actually, I think Gavin looked pretty good in that wig.” Geoff smirked as Gavin squawked indignantly, which only served to comfort Jeremy unendingly. It was nice when the first priority wasn’t murdering him.

“That was so cool.” Jeremy gushed as they pulled into the parking lot of The Richman Hotel, with Jack and Ryan stood patiently in the distance. “You conned a con! With my own fucking bit!”

“That was pretty fucking clever, total Geoff move.” Michael said, and Geoff waved his hand, though he beamed a little.

“Come on, let’s get settled in until we figure out our next move.” He said as Ray pulled up behind them.

They exited the car and the entire group reunited, then entered the luxury hotel together. Jeremy had never been there before, though with all he knew of the movie stars and millionaires that came to stay, he wasn’t surprised at the interior. Solid oak banisters on sweeping staircases, leather couches on red carpets, and a massive crystal chandelier dangling from the high ceiling.

“We’d like the four nicest rooms you have.” Geoff was telling the clerk as Jeremy looked around in awe. He turned to the rest of them. “Partner up.”

“Dibs.” Lindsay grabbed her husband.

“Geoff.” Jack said suddenly, his voice urgent.

“Yeah, we’re paying cash. And nice of you to want me so badly, Jack--” Geoff began, but out of nowhere, Jack tackled him, and they crashed to the ground. The sound of a single shot rang out, and everyone looked up to see its source.

There, with his hands wrapped around a smoking semi-automatic, was Tyler Coe. And he did not look too pleased to see them.


	11. Chapter 11

“Fuck.” Geoff scrambled to his feet and grabbed his favorite revolver from the inside pocket of his suit.

The rest of the crew instantly had their hands on their own weapons, with Jeremy stood there very awkwardly, still handcuffed. Screams rang out as everyone fled the lobby, but some stayed. Bell boys, business men, a janitor, and all sorts of innocuous people pulled guns from nearby house plants and luggage and pointed them directly at the Fakes.

A dozen guns pointed at the eight of them weren’t even close to the worst odds they’d seen, but they’d never known a dozen guns with a Rooster Teeth member pointing one of them.

“Honor to finally meet y’all.” He said, his voice deep and Texan accent thick. Everyone glared, even Jeremy, who knew exactly who this bastard was. He tipped his head towards the black mask, a sign of courtesy that didn’t pair well with the smoking gun in his hand. “Ryan.”

“Tyler.” Ryan answered, voice despondent. “We’ve worked together how many times?”

“Enough.” He said lightly, and shrugged.

Free play. A side job Geoff approved of because it was Ryan, Meg, and two people the gang trusted dearly, Tyler and Mariel, and only did so because they were so beloved by Rooster Teeth. None of them had ever considered that their parent company would become so corrupted, that fate would bite them this hard in the ass.

“Where the hell is Meg?” Gavin yelled out, his tone deathly serious, and Tyler shrugged nonchalantly again.

“Don’t know. Why should I care? I haven’t touched her. I’m here for all of you.” He said. All the weapons remained pointed at them, all expressions in the room hardened. Gavin and the group may have had a second of relief for Meg’s safety, but they themselves were still deep in the shit show.

“You don’t have to do this.” Geoff said, a last ditch effort. He’d tried his hardest to hide the desperation in his voice, but the hair on Jeremy’s neck stood up. A closed off room, civilians still trapped inside, and no cover in sight. Everyone must’ve seen that they didn’t have the best chance.

“We were friends!” Ryan added, and Tyler chuckled.

“And now you’re a pest.” He cocked his gun. “Sniffing around in shit you needn’t be concerned with.”

“What does that mean?” Jack shouted. “Why, Tyler?”

Tyler gave Jack a look, and for a moment, Jeremy thought there was something despondent in it, but he gulped and knitted his brow, and his expression grew stony once more.

“It means goodbye.” He said solemnly.

He fired, and all hell broke loose. Geoff and Jack tumbled behind the desk the clerk was huddled behind as Lindsay ran at a bellboy, a real one, and used him as a shield. Michael moved directly behind them and grabbed at a huge houseplant in a massive pot, and after a moment, Ryan realized what he was doing and helped him knock it to the ground and roll it in front of them. Michael and Ray crouched behind and opened fire as Ryan knocked over another for himself and Gavin to take additional cover.

Jeremy followed Lindsay to a rolling luggage cart, where she ducked behind a few suitcases. She pulled her gun and opened fire, and Jeremy looked over to the rest of the group. A racket of gunfire filled the hall, and smoke and debris flew about every time someone splintered the crown molding or decimated the insides of a couch. On the other side of the lobby, one of Coe’s men screamed and fell, but they all had far better cover the Fakes did, and it could only mean that this would be one long shootout.

“Got any plans, Geoff?” Ray shouted over the noise.

“We need to get the fuck out of here!” Geoff yelled a somewhat obvious answer.

“Good one, I never would’ve thought of that!” Ray shouted again as one of the enemies charged forward. Ryan stood long enough to stab him in the chest, and when he fell over with a cry and a rush of blood, hid behind the pot again.

“Let’s take them out and capture Tyler!” Ryan suggested, and Jeremy could hear the fire in his tone. “He must know what’s going on!”

“I don’t think that’s happening.” Michael said bitterly, though there was a note of pity in his voice. He was more than familiar with rage, and he could tell Ryan was feeling it. “We’re closer to the door and our get-away vehicle, we just need to wound them enough to escape.”

Lindsay yelped next to him, and Jeremy whipped his neck to see a flash of blood. She grit her teeth and grabbed at her forearm, her face gone red and her eyes welled up as alarm shot through him. He heard Michael scream her name, but he focused up, leaned over and pulled her hand away, which was probably the most his life had been in danger the whole shoot-out.

“It’s just a graze.” He yelled out, both to Lindsay and for Michael’s benefit. He glanced over to see him nod gratefully, and Lindsay shook him off, though not too violently.

“They’re moving in closer, boss.” Jack observed as Coe grabbed a luggage cart of his own and rolled it forward. A group of his men pushed on the couch and gained another ten foot advantage.

“Lindsay, how are you doing?” Geoff asked, and she winced.

“I’m firing left-handed and I’m a shit shot.” She responded, and he groaned. “They’re gonna be on top of us soon and I don’t think we can take them.”

There was a strangled cry as the clerk that had been hiding behind the desk with Jack and Geoff was shot, and Jeremy glanced over to see blood gushing from the young man’s neck as he collapsed onto the ground. His heart dropped into his stomach; this was not what he expected when he first put on that curly red wig. Yes, it was cool, all of it had been, and he’d do what he could for the gang, but holy shit would this life take some getting used to.

That is, if he lived long enough to do so.

Behind them, a set of drapes became engulfed in flames, and he peeked out to see a shiny gold flare gun in Coe’s hand, a smirk on his face as he fired again. The plant next to Lindsay caught fire, and she swore furiously as she stomped on it.

“I’ve got two grenades. You want Coe dead or what?” Michael asked Geoff, who tensed and glanced to Ryan.

“We’re low on ammo. We need to get out of here.” He said, and when Ryan nodded stiffly, turned back to Michael. “Do what you have to do.”

Michael nodded, tugged at the pin, and hurled a grenade. There was a tense moment of apprehension before the explosion sounded out, though even from the other side of the room Jeremy could tell he overshot it. The place filled with screaming and shouting as three men were engulfed in flames and torn apart. The drywall crumbled to dust and the room grew even more hazy than it had before. The fire alarm sounded out, and Jack looked panicked.

“If the firefighters show up it’ll be a showdown or a massacre.” He said, and Gavin tilted his head.

“Maybe not, maybe Gus--” He began, but Geoff cut him off gruffly.

“Officer Sorola is Joel’s friend, we can’t risk asking him to be the first responder to this.” Geoff answered, his expression strained. “Who knows what side he’s on, what he’ll let Tyler do to us--”

“No, Geoff, he wouldn’t.” Gavin said, but they were empty words. None of them knew. Knew the truth, knew who to trust, anything. They normally had this whole team built around them, all these allies, but now it was all hanging in the balance. Geoff seemed all too aware of this, and he sucked in a breath, then hardened his expression.

“We can do this on our own.” He said, with no room for doubt. “Michael, throw the last grenade.”

“Let me figure out where.” He said, and narrowed his eyes as he searched through the din. Flames had engulfed the banister of the sweeping staircase, and the melted carpet was beginning to smell like a chemical accident. They could barely see shit, and as Jeremy scanned the other side of the room, he realized that Michael would have to be real goddamn lucky to hit Coe in this. Then, he discovered the perfect target.

“Wait, someone uncuff me!” Jeremy called out. “I can throw it!”

Everyone obviously ignored that, save Michael, who merely gave him a doubtful look as he continued to try and peer through the clouds. Jeremy groaned, then looked to a body that had fallen near him, just beyond his cover. The enemy Ryan stabbed, with the knife still plunged into his chest.

He took a heavy breath and rushed out from behind cover, and felt a bullet whiz by his ear as he grabbed the knife. He stumbled back to the luggage cart and ignored Lindsay’s odd look as he grabbed the knife in one hand and sat the handcuff chain on the floor. As he stabbed at it and used the knife’s leverage to attempt to pry the cuffs open, the knife bent at an odd angle, and he sent out a prayer that this stupid MacGyver bullshit would work. With a clang of metal, the knife snapped, and Jeremy’s hands were separated.

He barely sighed with relief. Freedom didn’t matter much by now, he knew where his allegiances lay and who he was going to die for. He turned back to Michael, who’d been startled by the loud noise.

“I can throw it!” He said, and when Michael hesitated: “Please!”

“Someone throw the damn thing!” Geoff yelled, but Jeremy knew it was the certainty in his own voice and not the desperation in Geoff’s that prompted Michael into action. He tossed the grenade to Jeremy, who caught it deftly and pulled the pin.

_One._

He gazed up to the chandelier and took careful aim.

_Two._

Lindsay’s breath hitched beside him. He lobbed it with all his strength.

_Three._

The explosion rocked the building, but it was nothing compared to the clanking of crystal and metal from the chandelier as it shook heavily, then fell swiftly.

“Run!” Geoff yelled, and Jeremy took off without looking back. He could hear the screaming and yelling of Tyler’s men, and maybe Coe himself, as the plaster ceiling began to cave in and the entire first floor fell into the lobby.

They rushed out to the car as the first firetruck pulled up, and ran frantically to get in. Jeremy could hear the men yelling at them to stop, but Geoff slammed the gas and peeled away as Ray, Lindsay and Ryan followed on the bikes. They all breathed heavily as Geoff quickly got distance from the smoldering hotel, then after a moment, pulled over on a side road and waited for the others to catch up.

They all got out of the car, and Jeremy, for once, didn’t feel out of place with them. They were all tired, sweaty, dirty, wounded, and he was just along for the ride. He felt more like a coworker than a prisoner, despite the cuffs on his wrists, broken as they were.

“We need a plan.” Ryan spoke first, and Jack shook his head.

“We need a safe-house.” He said. “We need someplace to rest so we can get a damn plan.”

“We have no ammo available to us.” Geoff said. “None of our cars, none of our friends. We essentially have to work with nothing.”

“I’d say it’s like the good ol’ days.” Michael began grimly. “But even then we had Rooster Teeth backing us up. We had a fucking roof over our heads.”

“Let’s start with that.” Jack said. “A roof and a medic.”

“Blaine?” Jeremy suggested. “He’s a paramedic.”

“He’s RT.” Ray said, nonplussed that the prisoner was now essentially part of the team. “We need someone who isn’t even connected to them.”

“And how will we find someone not on their side?” Lindsay asked with a frown. “Even Funhaus is getting support from them. We don’t know any of the other gangs well enough.”

“I barely know their names.” Gavin mused. “Screws Attack, right? Something like that?”

“Does Dan have a safe-house here?” Ryan asked in a stroke of genius, but Gavin shook his head.

“Not since -- well -- we may have been a little too drunk when we bought our flare guns.” He admitted, and Jack face-palmed with a groan.

“This will probably sound like a terrible idea to you guys.” Jeremy began hesitantly. “But if all we need now is a place to stay, I can get us that.”

“What are you gonna do, ask a fellow fanboy if we can crash at his place?” Michael asked jokingly. Jeremy winced, and Michael visibly paled. “Jesus, I was being sarcastic.”

“Do any of you even have anyone else?” Geoff asked wearily, but there was something akin to pride in his voice as he looked over to Jeremy. His heart pounded at the notion that Geoff, the greatest gang leader in Los Santos, was looking at him favorably. No one spoke up, and it seemed that Jeremy’s plan was the only viable option.

“Not to step on anyone’s toes.” Ryan said hesitantly after a moment’s silence. “But I assume we’ve decided not to murder this guy?”

Everyone’s expression chilled as their eyes flitted to Geoff, then Michael. Michael bit his lip and shrugged.

“I mean.” He glanced up at Jeremy. “I think you’re a piece of shit.”

Jeremy nodded solemnly. Kinda true, really.

“You think I’m a piece of shit.” Gavin pointed out, and Michael tried and failed to hide a soft grin.

“That’s what I’m saying, Gav.” Michael smiled. “I tolerate you.”

“We’re a great family.” Ray said flatly, and Michael’s grin faded as he grew serious and turned to Geoff.

“If you wanna keep him around, that’s your call. I won’t get in the way.” Michael said, and Jeremy gaped. “I will remind you that he did just save all of our asses.”

Did Michael just defend him against Geoff? Like, he went from hating his guts (and wanting to spill them on the ground) to mentioning that he helped them out? Jeremy was as shocked as he was humbled.

“You guys could’ve gotten out of that.” Jeremy cut in, and Geoff waved his hand modestly.

“Call your guy. We need a shelter before we can move on.” He said kindly, and Jeremy grinned ear to ear as he pulled out his phone. He wasn’t the prisoner anymore, he was a coworker, an ally! Holy shit, this was the best day of his life.

“Wait, is that your personal cell?” Jack asked with a furrowed brow. “Have you been carrying that around?”

Jeremy nodded, brow knit, and Jack went wide-eyed.

“That’s how they’re tracking us.” He said urgently. “All ours are burners.”

“Nonsense!” Gavin said with a huff of annoyance. “I wouldn’t carry a phone around if I knew there was a chance it could be compromised.”

“And Joel didn’t even know we had a copy-cat.” Lindsay added pointedly.

“Unless he did.” Ryan countered, and pulled off his mask. His expression was beyond dour as he gave the group a conspirative look. “You picked up the gold bars at a drop-off point?”

Jeremy nodded again, now hit with a sickening wave of worry.

“He had eyes on you.” Ryan added things together. “He really thought he’d hired Michael, but when he saw he hadn’t, he must’ve realized the opportunity that fell into his lap.”

“Then what? He broke into my home, planted a tracker on my phone?” Jeremy asked nervously. He didn’t want this story to add up. He didn’t want to be the accidental traitor. “When, while I was sleeping?”

“That’s a little above Joel’s pay-grade.” Ray cut in, but he seemed hesitant. “Still, I guess he might not be the mastermind here.”

“Then let’s get the hell out of the open and figure out who that is.” Lindsay demanded, and Geoff nodded.

“Throw that phone away, just incase.” Jack said, and handed him his own.

Jeremy nodded and felt his hands shake as he took it.

“If that’s true . . .” He gulped. “I’m so sorry. I would never do anything to put you guys in harm’s way.”

“We know.” Michael rolled his eyes. “You’re our biggest fan, Jesus, we get it.”

“Happens to the best of us, lad.” Gavin ignored Michael and clapped Jeremy on the shoulder. The rest gave him encouraging looks, and he took a breath and nodded, then dialed his phone.

“Hey, Trevor?” He said as he got a greeting from the other end of the line. “I need a favor.”

 

* * *

 

“Settle in boys, we’ve got important work to do!” Geoff called over to the living room from the apartment’s small kitchen. “As soon as I find -- there we go.”

He pulled a bottle of scotch from the cabinet as everyone sat down on the couch and the chairs pulled over from the kitchen table. The apartment was small and sparsely decorated, certainly nothing like their usual safe-houses, but it would do in a pinch.

“Here you go, sir.” Trevor handed him a stack of red plastic cups with a shaking hand. “It’s an honor.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Geoff said as he marched into the living room and passed the cups around. “Michael, I’m totally over the fanboy crowding.”

“I’m not.” Ray grinned as Trevor stepped into the room. He was the one closest to the public, this was nothing new for him. “You and your roommate want autographs?”

“My roommate has no idea what’s going on.” Trevor admitted. “But if you need tactical, he’s your guy.”

“Um, does anyone want a snack?” The roommate poked his head in. “I just bought some granola bars if--”

“Fuck off, Larry.” Trevor dismissed him, then gave Jeremy an exasperated look and shook his head. “So undeserving.”

“Quiet down, kids.” Ryan said to the pair sternly as Jeremy was ready to give an elated response that would’ve likely had to do with fanfic or LARPing. “We need to sort this out.”

“The enemy, whoever they are, tracked us down to the hotel.” Jack said, and everyone grew attentive. “Supposedly from Jeremy’s phone.”

“Dude.” Trevor gave him a cross look. Jeremy returned it, and Trevor seemed to understand that they were now discussing private matters, and slunk out of the room.

“Do we have a name for our baddies?” Gavin asked unperturbed, and Lindsay shrugged.

“They’re a faction within Rooster Teeth that are hunting us down because . . .” She trailed off without an answer, then gave a hardened look. “We don’t have a name yet. But we should assume that the group have titled themselves somehow.”

“Yeah, but how big is that group?” Michael asked, then began to count on his fingers. “Colton, Joel, Tyler and I assume Mariel -- probably Adam, right?”

“Joel’s guy at Maze Bank? One can guess.” Geoff said, and took a large gulp of his drink. “Whoever they are, they’re powerful. I don’t think Joel’s the mastermind.”

“I agree.” Jack said sympathetically. “I’m sure he’s just been swayed by some stranger, Geoff, we can bring him back around when this is over.”

“We can’t do it now?” Gavin asked. “It’s a new allegiance, wouldn’t he choose his friends’ safety over them?”

“He’s too stubborn.” Geoff answered sullenly. “Adam won’t talk, we don’t know if Tyler and Colton are alive or where Mariel is.”

“Can we figure out who else is a member?” Jeremy asked, and looked to Gavin. “Can you trace e-mails or something?”

“Rooster Teeth security makes that nearly impossible.” Gavin shook his head. “If I could get to Joel’s computer, sure, but he’s probably guarding it like a hawk knowing that I’m after him. And he talks to everyone in Rooster Teeth.”

“So if we get it wrong, we end up questioning--” Ryan raised his brows to illustrate that by ‘questioning,’ he meant violently torturing. “An ally. One we can lose over that.”

“Not to butt in here, but why exactly is any of this happening?” Ray asked, and Jeremy noted he looked a bit desperate. He was closer to Joel and Tyler than the rest of them; he was well aware of the times the trio would take over TV stations and talk sports on the evening news just for the fun of it.

“They pretended we traded our protection for cash at Pacific Standard.” Lindsay recalled, her face stony. “And when we found out, they tried to take us down.”

“No they didn’t.” Jeremy said. “They torched your safe-houses the night I pulled my heist.”

“After we told Joel we were hunting down an impersonator that he apparently already knew about.” Jack said. “So even then they were distracting us, trying to keep us away.”

“All for privacy.” Geoff muttered into his cup. “A bunch of greedy bastards that didn’t want us to know the truth.”

“Which is . . .?” Ryan asked, and Geoff hummed to himself in deep thought.

“That we need to go back to Burnie.”

“We’ve already been to Burnie.” Michael frowned. “Fuck that, let’s do something, let’s track them down and take them out!”

“Cut off a head and another will only grow in its place.” Jack chided him. “Besides, the only ones we can track are Joel and Adam. We can’t kill Joel--”

“We shouldn’t kill anyone.” Gavin said. “They’re probably already pissed, let’s not--”

“What, make enemies?” Michael spat. “Get your head out of your ass Gavin, now’s not the time to be friendly.”

“But they are your friends.” Jeremy said softly, and they all turned to him. “They were your allies, your family. Maybe we should tread lightly.”

“We offered Burnie our services and he turned them down.” Geoff continued his previous thought. “But a hotel’s been blown up and we can out five more as traitors. We can help him, he knows it. And he knows we won’t back down.”

“He can give us a new safe-house, at the very least.” Ryan sighed and looked down at his drink. “Something stocked with Diet Coke.”

“You’re the boss.” Jack said wearily. “But I think for now we all need to go to bed.”

“Perfect timing.” Trevor announced as he walked back in with a pile of blankets.

“I’m sharing the couch with my husband.” Lindsay immediately spoke up. Her menacing look was enough to keep anyone else from calling dibs.

“I call the floor.” Ryan said and took a blanket from a grinning Trevor.

“Coffee table.” Gavin yawned.

“This is kind of a sleepover.” He leaned over to Jeremy and mumbled excitedly, though not quietly enough.

“Not with a fan hanging about!” Gavin gasped in semi-mock scandalism. “You could get pervy about it. You stay in your room, Treyco.”

Trevor looked absolutely elated to get a nickname; Jeremy couldn’t help but feel a stab of envy.

“Treyco needs the privacy to jerk off over this anyway.” Ryan smirked, and Geoff chuckled.

“Yeah, I heard Treyco drinks his own jizz.” Geoff chuckled further as Jack groaned. “Spread out guys, you’ve got six hours.”

“I’m not that tired, I’ll keep lookout.” Ray said as he headed for the door.

“Ray.” Geoff called out in a warning tone. “We all need to sleep.”

“I’m not tired.” He replied, and sounded earnest, though there was an exhaustion in his eyes that couldn’t be masked. “Trust me boss, I got this.”

And he headed out without another word. Geoff frowned, but said nothing, and ignored Jack’s concerned look as he grabbed a thick blanket and curled up on an armchair.


	12. Chapter 12

They’d gone to bed early, and now it was still dark when they awoke, coaxed by a freshly brewed pot of coffee and Geoff’s not-so-gentle encouragement. Ray was asleep by then, curled up against the kitchen cabinets, though only God knew how late he was up.

It was about sunrise when they left the apartment. Geoff called in a limo and Lindsay killed the driver, so they all piled in silently. With Geoff at the wheel and the rest of the group in the back, Jeremy noted, in the light of day, the toll this had taken on all of them.

Gavin bore an anger he didn’t usually have, his whole face dark and brooding. Ray was barely awake, as was Ryan, both of whom were the closest to Tyler. Jeremy couldn’t imagine finding out that one of the people you were closest to outside your gang had betrayed you. Michael was fussing over Lindsay’s arm, wrapped in an ace bandage, and they both looked unusually fretful. Jack was, well, he looked strong, but Jeremy knew acting when he saw it.

And Geoff. Poor, uncertain, angry Geoff. A mother hen to six, a baby-sitter for Jeremy. He was responsible for their well-being and it weighed heavy on his shoulders. The people he loved turned against them. The people he told his gang they could trust were out for their blood. It raised a fury in him that Jeremy was sure he could never feel.

They didn’t meet Burnie at his house, a foul omen; Geoff was clearly expecting someone to follow them, whether that be from Trevor’s apartment to Burnie’s place or from Burnie’s to the gang’s next location, wherever the hell that would be. Damn, they really didn’t have any plans, any clue what they were doing. Just like old times. Just like Michael said in that defeated tone of his.

They pulled up to the construction site without another car in sight, and all shook themselves out of their own respective reveries as they stepped out of the limo.

“Ray, upstairs.” Geoff ordered. “Keep an eye out both for passerby and Burnie’s group, just incase one of those bastards decides to betray us. And take Jeremy with you.”

“Why?” Gavin asked, almost as though he’d miss him while he were gone.

“Our one advantage is that they don’t know he’s working with us.” Geoff answered. “They think he’s just a bloody and bruised hostage. Let’s keep that card up our sleeves.”

“Less likely for them to question any impersonating later.” Jack mused. Which was a very nice thought for Jeremy, because damn did he miss his masks and wigs.

Ray nodded and left without another word, and Jeremy silently followed him four floors up a rickety ladder. There, Ray set up his sniper rifle, and they waited for Burnie, though the wait wasn’t long. He pulled up in a town car and stepped out, with Jon and Brandon in tow. Even from that distance, looking over Ray’s shoulder into the sight of his rifle, Jeremy could tell that he was displeased.

“Burnie.” Geoff called out as he approached. “We need to talk.”

“You’re goddamn right we need to talk.” He replied solemnly. “Are you guys okay? The most famous luxury hotel in Los Santos is a pile of ash. I’m gonna assume that was you.”

Lindsay shifted in her place, and Jon’s eyes flickered to the bandage on her arm. He gave her a mournful look, but said nothing.

“We had a run-in with one of Joel’s men.” Geoff explained curtly. “Our second after our meeting with you.”

“Whoa--” Burnie said, and Geoff raised his hands apologetically.

“I’m not making accusations. I’m saying that we’ve got four new names we can hand over. We want to help you take these guys down.” Geoff said, and Burnie sighed.

“I told you guys I wanted you to rest.” He said, and looked at their tired faces doubtfully. “I can handle this, let me do what I said I would and protect you.”

“I know you can handle it.” Geoff said fiercely. “But this isn’t protecting us. We’ve been practically cut off from the Rooster Teeth Syndicate because we don’t know who we can trust. We don’t have a safe-house.”

“We had to buy ammo with the loose cash in our wallets.” Jack elaborated. “No credit cards incase they track us down. No big purchases that’ll look suspicious.”

“Which means we haven’t got a damn thing to protect ourselves.” Gavin added, fists clenched. Brandon shifted uneasily; Gavin wasn’t the type to stay angry long, and yet he was brooding as bad as the rest of them.

“If we’re your elite team, and we track them down just like we’re already trying to do --” Burnie opened his mouth to speak, but Geoff spoke over him. “-- you can’t stop us and you know you can’t! So you might as well help us do it and let us help you.”

Burnie sighed yet again, and turned back to Brandon and Jon, and the trio shared a nervous glance.

“If I didn’t know better.” Ray mumbled to Jeremy beside him, “I’d call that something to watch out for.”

“You can’t shoot Burnie.” Jeremy said in a hushed tone, his eyes widened, and Ray gave him a ‘no duh, asshole’ type look. “Fuck. Fucking fuck.”

“I can’t do that, Geoff.” Burnie spoke carefully. “I’m not gonna put your overworked asses into the line of fire --”

“We’re always in the line of fire!” Michael blurted out, but for once, Geoff didn’t give him a warning look. The boss couldn’t hide his frustration with Burnie. “Look at my wife! Look at her arm --”

“Because you weren’t in a safe-house.” Burnie replied, his tone strong but not yet a yell. He seemed to be losing his patience. “If you guys stayed underground --”

“There is no underground!” Ryan yelled. “There is no safe-house!”

“Oh my God.” Brandon mumbled despite himself. “Where the hell have you guys been sleeping, in the car?”

“That’s none of your goddamn business.” Geoff snapped at him, and Burnie looked surprised, then irritated.

“Relax with the paranoia, Geoff, he’s one of my right-hands, we can trust him.” This wasn’t just the leader of the RT Syndicate now, this was Geoff’s old friend speaking, and doing so curtly. “Clearly you’re strung out and can’t be making big moves right now --”

“Oh, you haven’t fucking seen strung out!” Geoff yelled, absolutely fuming.

“Uh oh.” Ray muttered, and Jeremy didn’t take that as a good sign.

“What do we do?” He asked. He was really unexperienced in diplomatic relations, having a crew, the whole ‘there’s a group of mysterious mercenaries trying to kill us and we don’t know who we can trust’ thing.

“From up here, nothing.” Ray shrugged. “If Brandon or Jon make a move, I can fire off a shot, but they’re all pissed. Murder might not be the best thing to calm the crowd.”

“I know, Geoff, I’ve seen strung out on you, and it’s always a drunken disaster!” Burnie fired back. “You really think I’m gonna watch you spin out? You’re responsible for six people’s lives --”

“Fuck you, Burnie!” Geoff cut in, and Jon audibly gasped and looked to Burnie for orders. If it were anyone but Geoff, he’d be gutted in a heartbeat. “You don’t think I know that shit? That’s why I’m here! That’s why I have to beg to be on your bullshit team!”

“Is there really nothing we can do?” Jeremy asked nervously. Ray shifted, just as frazzled.

“Not until one of his men makes a move.” He said, steely eyed, though his voice wavered. “And even then it’s a risky move.”

“You lunatic!” Burnie fumed. “You obviously are in no condition --”

“We have names!” Ryan interrupted. “People who betrayed us, people who are still on your pay!”

“I don’t care!” Burnie yelled, and for a moment, there was a cold silence.

“Fucking --” Jeremy began, but then had a sudden idea. “Wait. Be right back, Ray.”

“Don’t get yourself killed.” Ray called out over his shoulder.

Jeremy huffed out an empty laugh, but as he ran to the ladder, his thoughts were focused on the words being thrown around below him.

“What the hell do you mean, you don’t care?” Jack asked incredulously. “You really want to protect us that bad, you really don’t believe in our abilities that much?”

“Don’t turn this against me!” Burnie snapped. “You guys are the ones burning down hotels, running around all willy-nilly causing all these damn problems!”

“Shut up!” Gavin yelled, and Jon’s hand moved instinctively to his gun. “Shut up about what we’ve done and how burnt out we are! It doesn’t matter, we’re your family and we need your damn help!”

“I am helping!” Burnie cried out as Jeremy got to the floor above theirs. He walked over to the ledge and called out to them.

“Trust me Burns, you have no idea how much they need this.” He said, and everyone looked up to him. The Fakes quickly hid their confusion, though Burnie’s lackeys were too busy squinting up to Jeremy to even notice.

“Who the hell are you?” Burnie asked suspiciously, his tone warning.

“All your intel and you don’t recognize me?” Jeremy called back boldly. “Really, Burns, a man of your standing?”

“Who are you?” He shouted, suddenly as nervous as he was angry, and Jeremy forced back a sudden rush of his own nerves. No wigs, no make-up, no anything; he was flying in blind.

“Oh, come on, man.” Jeremy said. “You don’t recognize Adam Kovic when you see him?”

That changed the tone instantly. Burnie fell silent, but his stare was cold as he shook with an unexpected fury. He looked to Geoff, angry, surprised, and somehow betrayed. Then, in a split second, he pulled out his gun, and Jon and Brandon did the same. The crew, who’d all worn different shades of rage and exhaustion, became focused, and in another moment, their guns were out as well.

“You’re working with Funhaus?” Burnie asked Geoff in almost a whisper, completely floored. Obviously, they weren’t, but Geoff was a little more concerned with his best friend’s gun pointed square on his chest.

“And that’s a reason to pull a gun on me?” Geoff returned sadly. “It wouldn’t be, would it. Not unless . . .”

He trailed off, and they all knew he couldn’t finish, but nothing needed to be said. Jack had mercy and thankfully cut in.

“Unless your spies missed that.” He said calmly. “You’ve had Colton and Tyler and whoever else following us around, you’d think they would know something this big.”

“It’s the shock that hurts more, doesn’t it?” Ryan seethed beneath his mask.

“It doesn’t have to be like this.” Burnie said solemnly, but didn’t lower his gun. “You can all go back to normal, so long as you --”

“Ignore the spies?” Gavin asked coldly. “Ignore that we don’t know what the hell is going on with you? So long as we pretend we can trust the lot of you?”

“You’re making it sound worse than it is.” Jon spoke up earnestly, and everyone gave him a dirty look. “Do you guys really need to know all the dirty business?”

“Considering that I helped you get the syndicate off the ground? That I started the greatest gang in Los Santos for the sake of said syndicate? Yeah, I think we should be aware of these things.” Geoff snarled, and Burnie gripped tighter on his gun.

“And you?” Brandon called up to ‘Adam.’ “You really want to give up our allegiance for them? You have everything with us.”

“We have spies and hands around our necks.” Jeremy replied. “Don’t think we haven’t noticed just because you haven’t attacked us the way you’ve attacked them. We know we’re next if we disobey, and we’re not letting that shit happen.”

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that.” Brandon called back. Clearly they weren’t eager to lose both their gangs at once.

“Fuck you, Brandon.” Geoff hissed. “That was the worst attempt to convince someone ever. Are you fired yet?”

“We don’t want a war, Geoff.” Burnie cut in with a false calm.

“We’re not starting a war.” Geoff replied darkly. “We’re taking what’s ours. We’re getting the answers we deserve. Put down your weapons, talk to us, and maybe we’ll see reason.”

“No fucking way.” Burnie shot back. “I am so pissed, Geoff. Funhaus, really? You went to your competition behind my back?”

“They’re not competition anymore.” Michael spoke up. Jeremy was surprised that the other man decided to act along. “They’re our family, and we’re going to protect each other from whatever the fuck you’re doing until the end.”

It was an almost laughable statement, and maybe if they got out of this and didn’t burn the world down in the process then they’d eventually get a giggle out of it. But Jeremy had the feeling that wasn’t the case.

“You’re not going to shoot us.” Jon said after a tense moment. “We were your family once, too.”

“Then leave.” Lindsay said coldly. “Talk or leave and we’ll spare you as long as it’s rational to.”

“Fine.” Burnie said curtly. Brandon looked surprised, but none of the Fakes were; they knew he wasn’t out to kill his friends today. “But let me give you some advice, Gavin.”

He looked at him unexpectedly, and Gavin’s hands shook so much his gun wobbled as well.

“Don’t.” Geoff said in a warning tone, but Burnie ignored him.

“This goes for you too, Jack.” He continued. “Meg and Caiti are doing multiple dangerous missions for us. If you tell them to rebel or go into hiding or whatever, we’re not gonna be the only threat.”

“Don’t fucking threaten my wife, you motherfucker.” Jack hissed. It was angrier than any of them had ever known he could be.

“I’m not.” Burnie said, though it sounded very much like a threat. “But if you compromise their missions, there will be consequences. For your girls and for whomever else you try to bring to your side.”

“As if we can trust any of you bastards anymore.” Michael scoffed. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Fine.” Burnie repeated, and lowered his gun, though he was very much alone in the action.

He walked back to his town car, and Jon and Brandon followed slowly, guns raised, until they stepped in as well and the car sped off. Everyone lowered their guns with shaky hands and deep breaths, and for a moment, they were all silent.

They all tried to process what happened, but it was all too much. The Rooster Teeth Syndicate always supported them, always took care of them, were never meant to betray them so badly. Jeremy just watched a group of people become orphaned.

Geoff shook himself out a bit and ran his shaky hands through his hair. Everyone gave him weary and agitated looks, but they all knew that he would probably settle this with pushing forward. Hard work was one hell of a helper for denial, or at least for a good distraction.

“Adam.” Geoff yelled up to Jeremy. He kept up the charade just incase someone was still watching, and Jeremy nodded. “Go back to Funhaus and tell them what’s happened.”

The order wasn’t just acting. He wanted Jeremy to warn Funhaus, to tell them that their bosses were pulling the wool over their eyes and their barely-friendly competition had dragged them into the line of fire. Great, that would go over well.

“Ryan, go with him.” Geoff commanded. “If Kovic can’t convince them, you can threaten them.”

“Got it.” Ryan said as Jeremy started down the ladder.

“Ray, get to their headquarters now, separate from them, just do it quickly.” Geoff called up, and Ray blinked his laser to show he’d understood. “If I know Burnie, he’s gonna be wondering why his spies didn’t figure out this supposed team-up and call them back for questioning.”

“That would of course tell us who the spies are.” Jack said, and Geoff nodded.

“He’s not going to be overly concerned with that.” Geoff responded. “He’ll care more about us doing things under the radar than what we know or don’t know. The rest of you --”

He turned and looked to the rest of them.

“Michael and Lindsay, watch Maze bank. Jack, fly to Sandy Shores. I’ll go to the old apartment, whatever’s left of it. Hopefully, we’ll all come back with names.” He said, though that wasn’t anything they hoped for.

“Let me go back to Treyco’s.” Gavin spoke up. “You’ve got everyone you need on the ground, I can do some technical.”

“Go.” Geoff said, and Gavin nodded tightly.

They scattered quickly, no time to mince words or share concerns. It all happened in a whirlwind, without a calm moment to process anything, and yet the truth of it was a weight on all their chests. Burnie betrayed them. Rooster Teeth used them. They really were starting a war.

 

* * *

 

“Can you do any lines from Sweeney Todd?”

“. . . No.” Ryan answered from the passenger’s seat.

“Come on, you’re telling me you were a theater major but you don’t know Sweeney Todd?” Jeremy teased from behind the wheel. “How about the Johnny Depp version?”

“There’s a hole in the world like a great black pit and it’s filled with people who are filled with shit!” Ryan hissed, and Jeremy chuckled.

“Now do it in the mask!” He said with a laugh, and Ryan nodded and pulled the black skull mask over his head. For a moment, he looked positively menacing, then he burst into song.

“I’m singin’ in the rain, just singin’ in the rain!” He threw up some jazz hands as Jeremy howled. “What a glorious feeling, I’m happy again!”

Jeremy turned red with laughter and hunched over the steering wheel. When he was told he had to go to the other side of town with the rather distant and masked assassin, he wasn’t expecting to enjoy himself so much. He knew the truth of course, that Ryan was a nerdy kid from Georgia, and when he made conversation, Ryan opened up easily about being a theater kid, then an animator, then a serial killer. It was all a nice distraction from their job, but it would end soon.

“This the place?” Jeremy asked as he caught his breath, and saw Ryan nod as he grew serious as well.

They pulled up to a nondescript office building and left their stolen car on the side of the road. As they walked up, Jeremy wondered if Ray had already been there, already found out who their enemy was.

“Are you as big a fan of them as you are of us?” Ryan asked, and Jeremy felt a grin tug at his lips.

“I only know the basics. I do like them though.” Jeremy replied as they approached a door. “Are we just walking right in?”

“Yes. Because if you know the basics about them --” His voice went low, and he paused and looked Jeremy in the eye. “-- You know that if they catch us sneaking around, they slit our throats, no questions asked. They’re not showmen like we are; they’re streamlined, direct, professional. And it’s terrifying.”

A murderer in a skull mask calling someone else terrifying wasn’t the greatest thing to hear before meeting said people. Jeremy gulped hard, and Ryan glanced up, then gasped.

“Get behind me.” He dashed out in front of him and went for his knife.

“Don’t.” A voice called out softly. Jeremy tried to peer around Ryan’s fur-trimmed coat (he really had to have a word with him about going back to that leather jacket) to no avail, though what Ryan said next was anything but reassuring.

“Don’t kill us! We’re here on business, don’t hurt us!” He cried out, and showed his empty hands. Jeremy gulped and peered out to see one of Funhaus themselves stood there. His expression was alarmingly calm, the bazooka in both hands almost out of place.

“An urgent conversation needs to be had.” Ryan called out after a moment of tense silence. The other man seemed to be thinking things over. Jeremy leaned over to look at him, though he could find nothing abnormal about him. The thick beard and the heavy fleece in the warm weather, maybe, but nothing else.

After another moment of silence, Ryan glanced behind him to check on Jeremy, who himself noted his general unnerved manner.

“He’s the deadliest one of them all. No sudden movements.” He said in a way that could almost be described as skittish. In that moment, Jeremy realized that Ryan wasn’t the negotiator, the one sent to people who were meant to live. He must’ve felt wildly out of place, to be the one saving someone’s life for a change. Out of place, uncomfortable, and off his game, the thought of which didn’t do Jeremy any favors.

“Who is it?” Jeremy whispered, panicked. This guy was probably an absolute terror, a nightmare masquerading as a human, and they were in a situation that Ryan would have a lot of difficulty stabbing his way out of. His eye twitched as he let out his answer in an almost suffocated tone.

“It’s Matt Peake.”   



	13. Chapter 13

“You’re from the Fake AH Crew?” Peake asked, and Ryan nodded stiffly. “Are you guys okay? We’ve been hearing a lot of awful things.”

Weird. That was actually a very nice thing to say. But in front of Jeremy, Ryan shivered, and he assumed that it was just part of his method. Act nice, kill you with a smile. He decided to take over for the man clearly struggling to be anything but a human shield.

“We need to talk to your people.” Jeremy said again. “It’s urgent.”

“Well come on in.” Matt said as he lowered his weapon and waved his hand. “Let’s see what we can do for you guys.”

He walked off, and they followed, Ryan with stiff movements and Jeremy with a clenched jaw as he mentally rehearsed what he was going to say. ‘Hey, so your bosses are spying on you and most likely using you, and you should believe us because . . . ?’

Okay, he was done rehearsing, he’d always been good at winging it. Peake didn’t say a word the whole way, and when they arrived at a blank door and knocked, he only stood there and stared at them silently. Maybe Ryan was right and this guy was a sociopath.

The door swung open, and the man on the other side looked at them a moment, then registered who they were with an almost comedic look of shock on his face.

“Holy --” He fumbled for his gun, and Ryan grabbed his knife defensively.

“James.” Peake addressed him calmly, and the other man looked at him. “These two are from the Fakes with an urgent message.”

James paused and eyed them up and down as they did the same. Jeremy knew who this one was; James Willems, an absolute bruiser whose favorite things included robbing convenience stores and brawling in fist fights, his just as frightening wife Elyse always cheering him on from the sidelines. After the initial surprise, he didn’t seem too intimidated by them.

“And you didn’t take their weapons?” He looked to Peake, who frowned slightly.

“That doesn’t seem very nice.” He said, and Jeremy ignored his confusion as James then turned to him.

“Who are you?” He asked, clearly because he recognized the crew members but not Jeremy.

“He’s new.” Ryan answered bluntly. “There’s no need to mention him.”

“So you come with a message and a threat, or are they the same shit?” He asked with a menacing look, but Ryan didn’t back down.

“Call it a favor, since we’re about to do you one.” Ryan said gruffly, and looked down to Jeremy.

“We have information you need, and you need it quickly.” Jeremy said. “You’re low on time, and who knows what their next move will be.”

James gave them a studious look, then stepped back and motioned for them to enter the room. It was a small, plain office, and he sat behind his desk as the pair took their spots on the couch. Peake decided to stay, and sat on a chair in the corner.

“I thought we’d be dealing with your frontman.” Jeremy noted. “The charmer.”

“Joel has moved on from Funhaus, with our blessing.” James replied easily enough. “Kovic’s working, you’re stuck with me.”

“Another left?” Ryan asked, and gave Jeremy a quick glance. That didn’t sound good.

“With our blessing.” James repeated in a strained tone, then moved on. “If you have information we apparently need so badly then why are you just handing it over?”

“You’re the friendly competition, not the mortal enemy. You deserve to know.” Jeremy said honestly, then shrugged. “And we may have dragged you into it.”

“What?” James asked stiffly, but Matt waved his hand.

“Let them explain, James. They seem like good people.” He said kindly. Damn, the lies and deceit that came from this man were extraordinary.

“Well if you’ve never met Adam Kovic, only seen him in surveillance, and looked at me from about twelve feet below . . .” Jeremy said, and James caught on with a nod.

“Why?” He asked, though not so angrily. Jeremy knew that the gang was experienced with impersonating, and thought back to an image of Bruce Greene donned in a fat suit as Jack.

“Burnie wasn’t giving us any answers. His shouting match with Geoff was either going nowhere or to absolute shit.” Jeremy said frankly. At the mention of their boss’ name, James’ eyes went wide. “But he thinks you guys are working with us now.”

“What answers would you need from Burnie?” James asked uncertainly. “What the hell is going on with you guys, anyway? Ever since your heist you’ve been on the run with a trail of explosions behind you.”

“The Rooster Teeth Syndicate was using us.” Ryan spoke up, his words harsh. “Just like they’re probably using you. We don’t know the extent of it.”

“We know Joel was taking cash from Pacific Standard, pretending to be the Fakes.” Jeremy said, and James’ jaw dropped. “When they went investigating, their safe-houses were burned. The deeper in they got, the worse the attacks, and now they’re off the grid completely.”

James took it all in, his brow knit. He seemed to believe it, and had no obvious ill-will against the Fakes, which Jeremy was thankful for.

“Get Lawrence.” James said to Peake, who quickly exited, then looked back to them. “So when shit really went wrong you used us as a cover.”

Jeremy nodded carefully, and James looked thoughtful.

“And if we don’t cooperate and say we’re working with you, you’re caught in the lie. But if we do say we’re on your side, we’re at odds with RT.” James continued and looked cynical. “Where would Funhaus be then, caught in the middle?”

“You misunderstand.” Ryan said darkly.

“We’re not asking for either.” Jeremy said. “We’re telling you to leave. Take all the cash and all the ammo you can carry and run.”

“James?” Lawrence stood in the door, his expression questioning, but James waved his hand, and Jeremy continued.

“We have reason to believe that Burnie’s called in his spies. Go while you have the chance. Unmarked car, a safe-house no one knows about, fresh burners.” He said. “You don’t have to work with the Fakes. If they’re still alive when it’s over, you can fight them about it.”

“People have tried to kill us.” Ryan said, his voice hard as Jeremy thought of Tyler, and wondered briefly if Ryan’s old friend was still alive. “Probably not Burnie’s orders, but there were guns in our faces and men in our safe-houses. This is not the kind of shit you want to go through.”

“James.” Lawrence said again, his tone serious, and the man mentioned shook himself.

“Can you corroborate any of this?” He asked him. “Maybe get into some RT emails?”

Jeremy knew the answer before Lawrence even shook his head.

“There’s no time.” Jeremy said. “Every minute we sit here we risk more and more.”

“We should trust them. They seem to want what’s best for us.” Peake spoke up from the door, and Jeremy was glad that at least one of them was on their side, even if it was the alleged lunatic. James bit his lip, then sighed.

“Tell Omar to grab all the guns.” He said, and Peake rushed out once more. “We should have known not to trust them. Of course they’d abuse their power.”

“Are we really doing this? We’re just gonna go AWOL and abandon Rooster Teeth?” Lawrence asked, and James’ expression hardened.

“We’re not letting someone bully us, and we’re not letting them stick their noses in our business.” He said firmly, then looked purposely to Jeremy. “But you fuckers are gonna solve this. If RT goes down, you back us up, and if they take you out, use your last fucking breath to convince them we never helped you.”

“We’re not working with you until it’s the best move for our sake’s.” Lawrence continued. “If hiding is our best bet, we’re hiding.”

“You said Kovic’s working?” Ryan asked, and James nodded. “With Rooster Teeth?”

“Doing a deal for some anesthesia.” James replied. “We’ll text him, keep it cryptic, pick him up on the way to a safe spot.”

“With Blaine?” Jeremy piped up, and James nodded again. “He should be on our side, he’s a big AH fan. I don’t know how to reach out to him without the syndicate noticing.”

“I’ll handle that.” Lawrence said as Matt returned.

“You guys should leave while it’s still safe.” Matt said, then nodded to James to let him know the gang was packing up. “But thank you so much for warning us of this.”

Ryan twitched beside him, unnerved by the facade, and stood. Jeremy followed, and reached forward to shake James’ hand. He took it hesitantly.

“Fuck you if this kills us.” He said, and Jeremy nodded.

“That’s fair.” He replied, and stepped out without another word, Ryan right on his heels.

“Be safe out there!” Peake called out to them. “Bless you both!”

“What in the fuck.” Ryan muttered as they walked down the hallway. “And people call me the scary maniac.”

“You wear a skull mask, Ryan.” Jeremy whispered in reply. “One time you were on the news for turning a cow inside-out.”

“It was already dead, I stole it from a butcher.” He waved him off. “Let’s get back to Trevor’s, see what the rest of the guys brought back.”

That wouldn’t be pleasant. More names of spies and traitors, probably more bad news. More exhausted faces. As they got into the car, Jeremy asked a risky question.

“Why did you shield me when we ran into Peake?” He asked as he turned the key. “I’m not that important.”

“You’re the only person we know who isn’t against us.” Ryan said pointedly, then softened. “And maybe I’m getting attached, sue me.”

Jeremy grinned and drove off. He seemed to be cementing his place as a friend to the gang. Hopefully, they all survived this shit and hung out sometime. He could finally get a few autographs, too.

 

* * *

 

When they got back to Trevor’s apartment, they found themselves the last to return except for Jack. The rest were taking that opportunity to have a moment’s rest, and Trevor handed Ryan a Diet Coke as he collapsed onto the couch next to Geoff.

“Jack’s on his way back from Sandy Shores.” He informed them as he nursed a fresh bottle of whiskey. Clearly, Trevor had been grocery shopping.

Jeremy looked around the room to see Gavin typing furiously at his laptop, which was rested on a folding table while he sat on a chair from the kitchen. Ray was in an armchair, stock-still and completely silent as he stared blankly at the wall. Lindsay and Michael were haphazardly smashed into the other armchair, curled into each other. Michael seemed infinitely stressed, and Jeremy knew that whatever he saw would be hell to hear.

It only took a few minutes for Jack to return, pale and without handing out a greeting, and everyone mentally gathered themselves up. It was hard, how frequently they had to do that nowadays.

“I think I ought to start.” Gavin said from the corner, and Geoff nodded. “Got a text from Ryan about the two blokes who left Funhaus and did some digging. Neither of them have had contact with Rooster Teeth, they’re clean.”

Jeremy wasn’t sure why he sighed with relief, but he was glad the other gang didn’t have any traitors within their own ranks.

“I’m trying right now to get a message to Dan without Rooster Teeth seeing, because I’m hoping he can come and help us, but I don’t know if that’s possible.” He continued. “Plus, he’s safer in England.”

“If he’s not on their side.” Ray muttered, his eyes still trained on the wall. Gavin frowned.

“He would never and we all know it.” He said forcefully, and they all politely ignored the way he was practically convincing himself of that. “But I did send a message the syndicate could see.”

“A threat?” Geoff asked, but Gavin shook his head, his expression suddenly rather morose.

“I told Turney that we’re the enemy now, and I’m cutting off contact.” Gavin said, and the group stared at him. Geoff’s mouth hung open, and Gavin wrung his hands and gulped. “She understands, she won’t come to help us.”

“Gavin.” Geoff began, pained. He looked absolutely heartbroken. “Burnie was just trying to hurt us. You didn’t have to.”

“He did.” Jack said softly. “If I ask Caiti for help and she’s discovered by the Australians, she’s dead. No question, no hesitation, they will find her.”

“Meg’s got missions. Burnie was right -- if I compromise them, who knows who’ll come after her.” Gavin said. “If they can see that I’m following his advice, hopefully they’ll lay off.”

“Or she’ll be in danger from them.” Lindsay said. It wasn’t an attempt to be cruel, just unfortunately rational. “What’s stopping Rooster Teeth from taking her hostage?”

“Her.” Ryan answered, and Geoff sighed but nodded.

“That’s all I’ve got for now.” Gavin concluded. “Jeremy and Ryan?”

“God, the people we met.” Ryan said, his voice soft with distant terror. “Peake. He was a sociopath.”

“Actually, I think he was just nice.” Jeremy explained to them.

“The kindness. It almost felt real.” Ryan continued despondently.

“He seemed like a pretty good guy.” Jeremy said again.

“So thoughtful.” Ryan shivered.

“Pretty normal.” Jeremy said again for the crew’s benefit.

“Well did they believe you? Did they leave?” Geoff asked impatiently as Jack hid a grin. It seemed like Ryan to see evil in the benign.

“Yeah. They’re not gonna work with you guys, but they’re out of contact and underground.” Jeremy answered, and Geoff nodded approvingly.

“I guess that means we’re on to revealing traitors.” Geoff said slowly after a moment of silence. It was the part they’d all been dreading.

“Aren’t we the traitors?” Ryan asked humorlessly, but no one could let out a chuckle.

“I’ll go first, I think I have the best one.” Jack said. “Well, not the best.”

“The least likely to hurt.” Gavin filled in, and Geoff took another swig of his whiskey.

“Officer Aaron Marquis was guarding the Sandy Shores safe-house.” Jack continued with a frown. “But that doesn’t mean Barbara knows about any of this.”

“She does.” Michael said softly.

Oh no. Jeremy could practically see their hearts sink. Lindsay held onto Michael tighter, Gavin began to tear up.

“We thought about kidnapping anyone we saw at Maze Bank.” Lindsay explained quietly. “But Adam and Joel walked out with her.”

“We couldn’t.” Michael said. “Not Barb.”

Geoff nodded. Gavin turned away and wiped his cheek on his sleeve.

“I’m sorry, Gav.” Michael said, and he nodded wordlessly.

“Ray?” Geoff asked, but he shook his head.

“You go first.” He answered quietly, and Jeremy wondered who could be worse than Barb. Who could make Ray practically catatonic with their betrayal.

“I didn’t get a new name.” Geoff answered dully. “Colton’s still alive.”

Somehow, it was a relief that now Tyler was seemingly their only victim. They hadn’t killed any of their friends except him, not yet. But it was only a matter of time.

“Ray?” Jack asked him carefully, and Ray let out a heavy sigh. He looked up to Michael, his eyes all red with sadness and exhaustion.

“Andy.” He said, and Michael looked terrified and devastated and so utterly lost. “Andy was watching Funhaus.”

There weren’t words for the pain in Michael’s eyes. His greatest friend outside the gang was only a watchdog. He gulped hard and hid his face in his hands, and no one said a word. Lindsay, rather hesitantly, rested her hand on his shoulder.

“Fuck!” He stood up rather quickly and paced around the room. He seemed to realize this was someone else’s apartment, and chose to avoid punching any walls. “Fucking shit!”

Trevor ran in from the kitchen and very helpfully handed Michael an empty mug. He threw it on the ground immediately, and Trevor took off to grab another.

“Christ!” He yelled, and pushed away the plate Trevor was trying to hand him. He wiped away some furious tears and took another breath. “You okay?”

After a moment, they realized he was talking to Ray, and all looked over to see him crying silently. It was horrifically unlike him, and that level of sadness was too out of place on the poor man. Geoff stepped over to him and rubbed his back, and he looked rather parental standing over his small frame.

“I’m sorry.” Ray whispered, hoarse. “I wish I was too late.”

Michael nodded, and sat back down next to Lindsay, who squeezed his hand reassuringly. For a moment, there was a stiff silence.

“The hard part’s over.” Jack spoke up at last. “We’ve outed the worst of them as traitors, now it’s not as bad a blow next time -- next time we get a name.”

“Right.” Geoff clapped Ray on the back, then moved to stand in the middle of the group. “So now we need our plan. We have two options; the first, we take Rooster Teeth down.”

“What do you mean, take it down?” Lindsay asked warily, though Jeremy was sure she already knew the answer.

“Kill every higher-up and assume control, kill anyone who rebels against it.” Geoff said, his tone strong as he tried not to admit how terrible it was to think. “Which, in the end, might be everyone.”

Okay, well, that would suck. Jeremy knew they would do it if they had no other choice, but he didn’t know how successful it would be, or how damaging to themselves.

“We don’t know who knows shit and who doesn’t. We don’t know what Burnie’s telling them.” Lindsay said softly. “Maybe Barb thinks we’re getting ousted because we did something wrong. Maybe she has no idea what they’ve done to us. But she’s one of those higher-ups you’d need to kill to take over.”

“And if she’s told you’re the bad guy and you kill her friends and bosses, then in her eyes, you’re absolutely the bad guy.” Jeremy said. “Like it or not, you’re going to alienate your friends or you’re gonna murder them.”

“Option two?” Jack asked, clearly not discounting the first, though only barely, which really showed how dire their situation was.

“The issue is that we don’t know the dirty business. Let’s learn it.” Geoff replied. “Torture some people, hack into some stuff, and hopefully, it’s a problem we can fix.”

“Would you go back?” Lindsay asked. “Would you really go back to the people who abused our faith in them, even if we did fix the problem?”

Geoff thought a moment. Jeremy was almost sure he would say no, fuck them all, let’s burn the world down together. But instead, he looked hopeful.

“Families hurt each other. We’re just doing things in extremes.” He said finally. “If we can fix it and make sure it never happens again, then yes, I’ll go back. I hope you all will.”

Of course they would. It wasn’t even a question -- they would follow their leader into anything.

“Fixing it sounds possible. But preventing it?” Ryan asked skeptically. “We might need to take out whoever started it.”

“And killing Burnie is more of an ‘option one’ type thing.” Michael said bitterly.

“Look, those are the choices. I assume we like option two?” Geoff asked, and no one spoke up to disagree. “Good. We need to figure out what’s going on with them.”

“And we need to figure out how to figure that out.” Gavin supplied helpfully.

“Can you hack into Burnie or Joel’s email so we can learn more about this?” Jeremy asked.

“They’re expecting that. Demarais will trace me or give me a bug before I get through.” Gavin said. “And they’re probably erasing everything anyway.”

He paused and looked thoughtful a moment, his intelligence shining through, then continued sagely.

“Now, if Chris tells them to erase things, they’ll listen, but I don’t think Joel would take the time to do it properly.” He figured, and Jeremy noted how well Gavin knew their mannerisms. He was surprisingly observant, not that Jeremy had ever underestimated him.

“It’ll still be on his computer.” Jeremy followed along. “At Maze Bank.”

“So we break in and take a look.” Geoff said simply.

“They’ll probably be expecting that, too.” Ryan said.

“So we’ll make it seem impossible. We’ll set up a distraction.” Jeremy said, determined. “No, more than that --”

He paused, deep in thought, then looked up to Geoff.

“If one of you were to fall victim to Joel, how would he do it? How would he make you vulnerable?” He asked, and Geoff grinned.

“He’d kidnap someone.” He answered. “Send out some cronies and haul their ass away.”

“Which makes us look weak.” Now it was Lindsay’s turn to grin. “So clearly we’re not up to anything suspicious.”

“It should be Gavin.” Geoff said as he began to pace around the room. “He won’t suspect that we’re going for Maze Bank if our hacker’s in his hands.”

“I get the feeling our ‘Gavin’ will be a little shorter than usual.” Michael glanced to Jeremy with a sly grin of his own.

“Someone get me a map and a Sharpie.” Geoff said, and raised his bottle to his lips once more, but Jack cut in.

“Geoff, slow down.” He said warningly. “It’s been a long day, we need to rest up.”

“I know, I know.” He waved him off. “But we need to work! We need to fix this! And if we’re doing it tired and drunk, then so be it.”

“Geoff.” Jack said again, his tone doubtful, but someone else spoke up.

“So, I don’t know if you guys would want advice from me.” Trevor said from the kitchen doorway. “But it sounds like you could use some outside help.”

There was an unspoken moment where they all knew there was none, but suddenly, Jeremy knew otherwise, and gave Trevor a steely-eyed nod.

“Both of us know someone who’s pretty good at prepping the field.” Trevor continued. Matt. “And someone else who can turn a pile of ideas into something organized.”

“But can we trust them?” Ray spoke up for the first time in awhile, and Jeremy nodded.

“There’s no one I trust more.” He said honestly. “And the same should go for you guys. You can always trust a fan.”

He looked over to Geoff, who looked helplessly to Jack, who gave a begrudging nod. Jeremy grinned to himself.

“Trevor. Call Steffie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't want to suddenly make this a funhaus fic and i'm not exactly an expert on them, so hope you guys enjoyed their partial cameo, but that's all the screen time they're getting.


	14. Chapter 14

There was a lot of unpleasant deja vu when they all piled into the limo the next morning, just as the sun rose. It had only been twenty four hours previous that they’d gone to that fateful meeting with Burnie the same way. Though, of course, there were two new additions to the car.

“So Miles catches the grenade to throw it, right? Except _he doesn’t_.” Steffie said, and everyone gasped, rapt with attention. 

Ray was actually asleep, but Jeremy took pity and did a dramatic gasp for him. Michael was actually amused at that, and Jeremy tried not to beam too much as to not get noticed by Geoff.

“And he lets out this evil laugh--” Matt added on from the driver’s seat.

“No!” Ryan yelled out, and Lindsay giggled.

“I should’ve known, goddamnit.” Geoff swore. “What a tool!”

“We’re here.” Jack pointed out as Matt pulled over. “Come on, Ray.”

“Sure thing.” Jeremy said as he elbowed Ray in the ribs yet again. That one didn’t go unnoticed, and Gavin looked scandalized.

“Jeremy!” He said with a laugh. “Are you really using your impersonating skills to cover for Ray being asleep?”

“Nah, I’m up.” Ray muttered as he stretched, and the smile faded from Geoff’s face.

“Are you gonna be okay out there?” He asked seriously, and when Ray nodded, grew even more firm. “No. Be honest.”

The mood grew tense again as everyone turned to Ray. Jeremy knew that he wasn’t handling it as well as the rest, but he didn’t know why, something only the gang seemed to be aware of.

“Honestly, Geoff . . .” He shrugged. “We’re about to find out.”

He opened the door and left without another word, and Jack sighed and went with him. The rest stayed in the car, and Matt took off.

“He looks bloody ridiculous.” Gavin muttered, but Steffie spoke over him.

“Does everyone know their plan?” She asked, and they all nodded. “Matt?”

“My plan was to make the plan.” He said, but answered seriously. “Oversee and report damages.”

He lifted the tablet off the passenger’s seat to show what he meant by ‘oversee.’ Gavin had routed into several security feeds, and it was Matt’s job to warn them of any issues.

“We really needed someone technical on that.” Geoff mumbled, his nerves carefully hid behind a layer of self-deprecating doubt.

“We’ll get Jenzen around for any future endeavors.” Matt said reassuringly, and Geoff just sighed and nodded sagely, just sarcastic enough to convey the ‘yeah, I don’t know who that is, dipshit’ that was clearly on the tip of his tongue.

“And I’ll try to fix those damages once they arise.” Steffie continued easily. “Let’s avoid those and stay on our best game, people.”

“How cool did you feel saying that to the Fakes?” Jeremy asked, and Steffie grinned.

“Could it be cooler?” She gushed. “God, when you stopped posting on the forum I thought you got murdered. I didn’t expect that I’d be jealous of you.”

“What is this forum they keep talking about?” Geoff mumbled to Ryan, who could only shrug.

“Next stop.” Matt called out as he pulled over.

“See you fuckers later.” Geoff said as Ryan opened the door. He slipped out, and Michael and Lindsay followed, which just left Plan G and their guests to drive off.

“Ready?” Geoff asked the lad, who nodded fiercely. “We’ve got a long wait ahead of us.”

“We can cheat and get the rest of the story.” Gavin suggested with a glance to Steffie, but Geoff gave him a discouraging look. “Aw, come on! I’m not even in it, least I can do is hear it!”

“First enemy spotted.” Jack’s voice came in through the earpieces. “We’re starting.”

“On your mark, Geoff.” Lindsay said, and Geoff nodded.

“Blow it to hell, Michael.”

 

* * *

 

“We move the crates here, here, and here.” Matt pointed to a printed picture of a gas station taped to the wall. “Let’s thank Kdin for taking this sly photo for us.”

“What kind of name is Kdin?” Geoff snorted, but Matt pressed on.

“The crates will be in optimal position for shrapnel discharge. I’ve done the math and we’re pretty likely to shatter the windows with this one.” He said. “Fair warning, there will be casualties.”

Casualties inside the building across from the gas station, a Rooster Teeth front for some money-laundering scheme. What looked like a nondescript business building was about to be the center of attention for all of Los Santos, especially the police, and especially Rooster Teeth.

“That’s fine.” Michael spoke up, but shifted uneasily. “Where will we be?”

“You and Lindsay have to stand exactly here and here.” He pointed to two different positions. “Four feet or more out of place, you’re dead.”

“Reassuring.” Lindsay muttered.

“Ryan will be inside.” Matt barreled on.

“What?!” Ryan yelled. “They move an inch they’re dead, but I’m gonna be in the middle of a massive explosion?”

“You’re sheltered. It’s a 1962 brick structure.” Matt said, and Gavin held up his phone to show off the blue prints he’d requested. “You’ll have to hold your breath because I’m sure some cheap-ass owner didn’t remove the asbestos--”

Ryan gave him a skeptical snort in return, then looked up as if in prayer.

“And it’s my job to set up the scene.” Matt said reassuringly. “If I say you’re safe, you’re safe.”

“Let’s talk explosives, then.” Lindsay said, and gave Michael a proud look.

“Right. Before the Fake AH Crew, I didn’t have a huge amount of cash to burn --” Gavin squeaked, and Michael put on his first grin in awhile as he continued. “So it was a lot of bulk buying ammonia, chlorine, that kind of shit.”

“I came here to solve your problems.” Steffie said from the kitchen doorway as she emerged with a fresh pot of coffee, the third of the evening. “No cash? Okay, let’s get some tinder, start a goddamn fire.”

“And we got all the gas in the world as fuel.” Michael grinned wickedly.

“I’m thinking a liquid. Soak it in an old piece of clothing -- sorry Trevor --” Trevor pouted from the other side of the room, where he stood to simply watch the genius at their craft. “And carry it in a plastic bag. Small, portable, flammable.” She concluded, and Michael grinned. “One per person.”

“Not Ryan.” Larry called from his bedroom door, who’d stopped in to see what was going on about an hour ago, and stayed purely out of interest. “He’ll be too busy robbing the place and getting blown up.”

“1962 brick settlement! Very sturdy!” Matt called out defensively.

“Okay, shut up.” Geoff called out, but he wasn’t angry so much as stressed and a little less than sober, though Steffie’s coffee was definitely helping him out there. “Moving on.”

“Whoever’s at the Rooster Teeth front is gonna put up a fight.” Steffie explained as she poured Geoff another cup. “So you three --”

“Are gonna kick absolute ass.” Lindsay said ruefully. She couldn’t very well enjoy the fight when she knew who she’d be up against, but she was a badass at heart and couldn’t not look forward it.

 

* * *

 

Fire tore through the gas station as the deafening explosion sounded out. Michael and Lindsay held their marks carefully as glass broke and screaming filled the air. All it took was two jackets soaked in paint thinner to set such a beautiful scene, and Michael couldn’t be happier about it as he let out a delighted shout that Jeremy could hear through Matt’s surveillance system.

“Glad to hear you’re enjoying yourself.” Ryan said dryly from inside the building. “While I breathe in the asbestos.”

“From within the standing building.” Matt noted.

“As long as we can get some cash.” Geoff said. “We fucking need it.”

“Let’s check out the Rooster Teeth guys.” Lindsay said as she cocked her shotgun. “After all, they know we’re here.”

Ryan kicked in the burnt plexiglass door to the gas station as if in agreement, then the trio crossed the road to examine the other building. The windows were blown out and broken glass littered the street, and inside, a receptionist’s desk was covered in loose papers and a spray of blood. No one was visible, but that didn’t mean no one was waiting.

“Our first Rooster Teeth kill.” Michael peered over to the dead receptionist.

“Our second.” Ryan reminded him bitterly. From deep inside the building, a voice responded.

“Your first.”

A figure emerged from the shadows, covered in bandages and hobbling significantly, but there was no mistaking that Texan twang when they’d heard it.

“Uh, you wanted me to report problems?” Matt asked, and Steffie nodded. “They’re fighting Tyler Coe.”

“Fuck.” Geoff said in alarm, but Steffie gave him a calming look.

“Nothing’s changed.” She said over her earpiece. “Hold position.”

Tyler pushed open a door that barely hung on its hinges following the blast, and lurched forward, his gun already pointed up at them. His leg was cast, the reason for his limp, and his arm was in a sling. Though they couldn’t see beneath his kevlar, they assumed he was wrapped in gauze and pumped up with oxycodone for more than a few busted ribs.

“What, you’re coming to us now?” Tyler asked, seething, as he hobbled closer to them. “Murdering me when I tracked you down wasn’t enough, you gotta target your friends?”

“Nothing’s changed.” Steffie repeated firmly. “Stick to the plan.”

“That’s what you did, isn’t it?” Michael bit back coldly. Tyler grimaced.

“Y’all could’ve just ran. Left Los Santos, disappeared, whatever. But you had to come back.” He said. “You had to attack us, and not even for a paycheck like my sorry ass.”

“We’re getting what we deserve.” Ryan said darkly, and Tyler smirked.

“Yes. You are.” He let out a whistle, and a dozen men ran forward from within the store.

“It’s starting.” Matt said. “Everyone, remember where you can fall back if you need cover.”

“They don’t need it.” Geoff said confidently.

“Damn right I don’t.” Lindsay said, and ran forward to an unknown man. He brought his hand to his gun, but couldn’t pull it from the holster before she kicked him in the face with a sickening crunch of his broken jaw. Michael pulled out his submachine rifle and fired into the crowd -- not at their chests, which were covered safely with kevlar, but at their feet. Voices cried out as men ran about chaotically, though a lot of that running was now rather lopsided.

That just left Ryan and Tyler. Coe gave Ryan a smirk, then drew his flare gun, and Ryan quickly did the same. Tyler fired first, and Ryan rolled to avoid a burst of golden flames before he shot back, the scene temporarily illuminated in pink.

“Not the best spot for a flare fight, Ryan.” Matt warned, and Steffie looked alarmed.

“Disable him.” Steffie told Ryan, who surged forward and fired once more.

Tyler dropped to the ground to avoid the flames, then shot upward. He was clearly aiming for the black mask, but Ryan fell back quickly, and instead a crate went up in flames.

“Tell me you researched what was in those crates, Matt!” Lindsay yelled as she grabbed a guy by the hair and slammed his face into a wall.

“Yup. We’ve got a huge fucking box of anti-freeze on fire.” Matt said, and Steffie groaned.

“Get away from that crate, now.” Geoff ordered, and Lindsay and Michael, though already at a distance, took a few steps back.

Ryan, however, had his hands full. He pulled his knife from his back pocket and pounced on Coe, who pulled the trigger as he toppled to the ground. The whole gang heard a yell of pain, and Michael and Lindsay fought the urge to check their friend’s safety.

“Fuck!” Ryan slapped the gun from Tyler’s hand and punched him in the face, then patted down his leg while he was dazed. The golden flames died away, and the denim of his jeans was left tattered.

“He’s burned his leg pretty bad.” Matt informed them.

“Jeremy, call Caleb right now, we can’t keep putting off getting you guys a medic.” Steffie said, and Jeremy nodded as he pulled out his phone as sirens began to ring out in the distance.

Coe grabbed at Ryan’s mask and Ryan lifted his knife high above his head to stop him. Tyler thrust his broken arm forward and punched him forcefully in the chest, but it did him quite a bit of damage as well, and the pair of them hissed as Ryan dropped the blade.

“Hey, Caleb?” Jeremy was saying on the phone. “Yeah, can you get down to Trevor’s? We’re all -- oh, you read the forum?”

“What forum?” Gavin yelled out.

“Yeah, we just keep catching fire and stuff, if you could get down to Trevor’s that would be awesome.” Jeremy continued. “Okay, later.”

“I can’t believe how many of these nerds we’re summoning.” Geoff grumbled.

Ryan lunged for the knife, and Tyler jabbed his hand into his throat. He squeaked and Tyler elbowed him, which effectively knocked the wind out of him. When the pair tried to take a breath, they found themselves retching, and it was no wonder why. The anti-freeze was releasing black smoke in spades, and the foul smell of chemicals in the air left them both struggling.

But Ryan got to his feet first, and clearly he had the upper-hand. He grabbed his knife, looked down at his old friend for a moment, then joined the fray in silence as the sirens grew ever louder.

“He could’ve killed him.” Matt mumbled thoughtfully to himself, but Gavin shook his head solemnly.

“Tyler was family.” Gavin said, and though Ryan heard, he didn’t respond through the earpieces.

“At any rate, he looks like he’s down for the count.” Matt said to Steffie. “So at least we don’t have to -- shit, Ryan, behind you!”

Ryan ducked just in time to avoid a golden flare to the head, and turned to see Tyler as he attempted to sit up.

“You coward!” He cried out. In the distance, the last of Michael’s enemies fell. It was only the three of them and Coe. “You’ll kill all of them but you won’t kill me?”

Ryan said nothing as Lindsay and Michael walked over to him and stood by his side. Tyler retched as he breathed in the foul air, and Ryan took a half-step forward, as though he had to resist helping.

“Fucking fight me!” Tyler screamed, his deep voice gone hoarse. “I’m not dead yet, fight me!”

“Come on.” Ryan muttered to himself.

“Fight him.” Lindsay said, and Ryan gave her a look. Though hidden by the mask, she could tell he was just as upset as he was confused. “He’ll wonder what we’re waiting for if you don’t.”

“We’ll be in the store.” Michael said loudly enough for Coe to hear, as to further dismiss any suspicions. The pair ran past Tyler as he struggled to his feet, and Ryan gripped his knife tightly.

“Don’t just stand there!” Tyler yelled as he stood up. He limped closer to Ryan. “Don’t hesitate just because we were friends!”

“We still are.” Ryan said sadly. “Just because we’re on different sides--”

“Take off your mask.” Tyler cut in. “If we’re such good friends.”

But he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t show his face and betray his emotions, it would compromise their mission in a heartbeat. It would be the right thing to do, to kill an old friend openly and honestly, but while he was The Vagabond, he was not a man who did what was noble.

“Come on.” He muttered to himself again. “What’s taking so long?”

“Face me when you kill me, you coward!” Tyler yelled, and a shriek sounded out through their earpieces. Ryan grabbed at his ear, pained, and Tyler noticed and bent his head.

“Gavin!” Jack screamed. “No!”

“What’s happening?” Ryan asked forcefully, his knife still pointed up towards Coe as a series of familiar, panicked squawks were let out.

“Gavin! Shit!” Jack yelled as Gavin’s cries were suddenly cut off. “Someone help! They’re taking him!”

“What?” Tyler asked, an edge of nerves in his voice. “Issues on your side?”

For a moment, Ryan painfully recognized that Tyler was actually concerned for their safety, despite all his tough talk and heavy words. He wanted to explain the situation, ask him to join their side despite the pointlessness of it, and he almost opened his mouth to speak.

“Police!” A voice sounded out as a cruiser pulled up to the scene. “Hands in the air!”

“We gotta go!” Michael yelled as he burst out of the building with perfect timing. “We’re aborting the mission!”

“They got Gavin!” Lindsay added as she followed him out.

“LSPD!” A cop yelled as he jumped out his car, but was quickly set alight by a golden flame. Ryan turned and looked back at Tyler for a moment; there was a hard look on his face, but he saw the intensity of his gaze and the worry lines on his forehead. 

“Hurry up, there’s more coming!” Lindsay yelled as the pair continued to run.

Ryan nodded stiffly at Coe, then turned back and ran off.

 

* * *

 

“Until we hear over our earpieces that they’ve got Gavin. Then we’re going to fake a panic and abandon ship.” Ryan said.

“Exactly.” Matt grinned. “But of course, Steffie did notice a flaw in that plan.”

“Rooster Teeth knows Gavin intimately.” She said. “Even if none of your close friends personally kidnap him -- and that’ll likely be the case -- someone is gonna spot a faker real quick.”

“Especially a faker that short.” Geoff snorted as he glanced in Jeremy’s direction.

“It would be like sending in an oompa-loompa.” Michael smirked.

“So we need this to look real.” Steffie continued. “Height and all.”

“Jerem will work on the disguise, but he won’t be the one wearing it.” Matt added.

“That’s a shite nick-name. We’ll work on that.” Gavin said to Jeremy, who beamed at the thought.

“Our copy-cat will be the only one who comes close to Gavin’s height and weight.” Jack said smartly. “The only one who can really hit Joel where it hurts.”

They all turned to look at Ray. He’d been silent most of the evening, still reeling over the loss of Barb and Andy. The rest of them had given him time and space, with some sort of unspoken knowledge as to why. It was well rehearsed, and Jeremy couldn’t help but wonder how many times they’d done it before. But now, they needed him to step up.

“Ray.” Jack spoke softly. “Can you do this?”

He looked up, eyes red, and the group all held their breath. He bit his lip and looked thoughtful.

“We’re just gonna keep losing our friends.” He said quietly. “I can’t break down every time we get some bad news.”

“You’re allowed to grieve.” Jack said, but Ray shook his head.

“But I gotta keep moving. We have a war to wage, all of us, and we’re all leaning on each other to get this shit done.” Ray said, and suddenly looked fierce. “Slap some make-up and a massive fake nose on me, I’m ready.”

Gavin squawked indignantly, but Jeremy grinned.

“Let’s do this.” He said, and pulled foundation from his bag.

 

* * *

 

“We’re here.” Jack pointed out as Matt pulled over. “Come on, Ray.”

“Sure thing.” Jeremy said, and elbowed a dozing Ray awake.

The pair stepped out of the car, and the others drove off, with Ray barely catching Gavin’s sulky insult.

“He’s right, I do look ridiculous.” He said as he perched the golden sunglasses on his prosthetic nose.

“You’re British.” Jack reminded him, and Ray gave him an empty grin and tousled his blonde wig.

“I know that, mate.” He said in an extremely mocking accent as he put on his earpiece. “Look how pasty I am! By jove, gov’na, it may just be make-up --”

“First enemy spotted.” Jack cut him off, and they both fell silent as the plant on a distant park bench continued his undercover spying. “We’re starting.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so long whoops!

Ray sighed as he looked down at the tablet. They were around the block from Maze Bank, and he was using it as what Jeremy referred to -- far too excitedly, as Michael cruelly noted at their late-night meeting -- as a ‘prop.’ The plant had seen them already, but they pretended they hadn’t seen him. He was disguised well enough as a civilian, and was watching ‘Gavin’ intently as he tapped on the screen.

An explosion sounded out in the distance, and Jack gave Ray a pointed look. The plant made a casual phone call.

“So they’ll blow up the gas station and rob the joint for some much needed pocket-change.” Jack mumbled to him.

“And attack the Rooster Teeth front while they’re at it.” Ray said. “Rooster Teeth hears that we’re close to Maze Bank and it looks like the arseholes at the front are just a distraction.”

“Joel’s closest, he’ll make the call.” Jack added with a soft, yet pained grin. “To kidnap you.”

 

* * *

 

“Hold the fuck on.” Geoff said, and held up his hand. “Ray’s gonna get kidnapped. Genius plan. But how the hell are we gonna get him out of it?”

“We don’t need everyone for the next stage.” Steffie said. “We’ll tail him.”

“No! Spot a tail, kill the captive. It’s rule one.” Jack cried out in alarm. Another rule of the trade that Burnie had taught them. “We need a sniper on him, maybe it shouldn’t be Ray after all.”

“We can ask Funhaus.” Lindsay shrugged, and Ryan went pale as he undoubtedly thought of the somehow monstrous Matt Peake.

“They’re underground, there’s no way we could find them.” Jeremy shook his head as Ryan sighed with relief. “I’m guessing we don’t have the cash to hire a merc.”

“No.” Geoff answered glumly. “What about you losers?”

“Hey!” Matt said, but Steffie only sighed.

“We don’t have a sniper. Jeremy can tail pretty well.” She suggested.

“We’re not putting Ray’s life in danger like that.” Michael said firmly, and Ray gave him an appreciative glance.

“Gavin, can you put a tracker on him somehow?” Jeremy asked, and he tilted his head.

“I’ve tracked cell phones, tablets, and laptops. In theory, I could pull the bits out of someone’s phone and hide it on him.” He said studiously. “But that’s not coding or malware or anything, I’m not a hundred percent certain.”

“Can Jeremy or Ryan help?” Lindsay asked as she looked between the pair. “You did build a sweet-ass laser.”

“And I put that thing in Gavin’s desk.” Ryan reminded them proudly, to which Gavin groaned. “But that’s machinery.”

“Yeah, give me a pile of resisters and I can whip up something basic, but I don’t think I can help with the phone.” Jeremy said, and was about to ask Ryan what he put in Gavin’s desk (behind the scenes stuff, so cool) when Gavin spoke again.

“What if I screw it up?” He looked carefully to Ray. “What if it doesn’t work?”

He was worried. Ray’s life was in his hands, a heavy weight to carry. Jeremy recalled what Ray had said, that they all leant on each other, and wondered if maybe he felt that same weight just a little more than the rest of the crew.

“When Joel finds out he’s been duped . . .” Ray began slowly. “There’s no reason to keep me anymore. That’s usually when the captive gets killed. But he has no reason to murder me, either.”

“What are you saying?” Geoff asked with a tense expression, and Ray suddenly looked sure of himself.

“I’m his friend. He knows killing one of us would be just --” He cringed, and Jeremy saw the rest of the group wince. “If I ask him to let me go, he will.”

“Whoa, whoa, fuck no!” Ryan blurted out. “We won’t bet your life on a madman’s whim!”

“Watch it.” Geoff defended his friend instinctively.

“If Gavin’s tracker works, we won’t need to.” Michael said firmly, and turned to Gavin. “And you said it’ll work.”

“It’ll bloody well have to!” Gavin exclaimed incredulously.

“I have faith in you.” Geoff said. “So if you think this is our best shot, tell me honestly.”

“This is our best shot, Geoff.” Gavin replied. “I don’t know about asking Joel to just let you go, Ray, but the tracker should work.”

“Good.” Steffie spoke up, the first of the younger group to do so in awhile. “And Ray’s idea is just a contingency plan. Hopefully, we won’t need it.”

“We won’t.” Michael said, and Gavin smiled at the encouragement.

 

* * *

 

“Our fake civilian has a friend.” Jack muttered as someone else sat on the park bench.

“That chap on the corner just gave him a knowing look, we’d be barmy not to spot that one.” Ray replied, then looked down at the tablet and started tapping on nothing once more.

“Did you read a slang dictionary or something?” Jack asked with a chuckle. “Did you google this stuff?”

“Balderdash.” Ray smirked. “I’ve no idea what you’re on about.”

“This is cringeworthy.” Jack replied, but winced when he saw movement from the corner of his eye. “It’s time.”

The supposed civilians all began to move in, slowly and nonchalant, but Jack knew well enough to recognize that they were about to get jumped.

“The firewall’s in critical condition.” Ray faked some dialogue. “A few more minutes --”

A car peeled out around the corner, and Jack and Ray knew that was meant to be their distraction. They turned to look at the source, and the men flanked them and pulled out their guns.

“Shite!” Ray threw the tablet onto the ground and stomped on it. A man grabbed at him, but it was too late, the bit of nothing that they thought was important was destroyed.

“Doesn’t matter, get him in the car!” One yelled as the car pulled up to the curb. Two men pulled ‘Gavin’ towards it as Jack pulled out his gun.

“Gavin!” He cried out as Ray struggled against his opposers. “No!”

He raised his gun, but one pointed his own pistol at Ray’s head, and Jack sighed and showed his hands. Ray flailed against them as they shoved him into the backseat, and one tugged out his earpiece and threw it onto the sidewalk as the other threw a black bag over his head.

“Gavin! Shit!” Jack yelled as the last man got into the car. He raised a hand to his ear. “Someone help! They’re taking him!”

The car sped off. Jack spent a moment with a general sense of fear and hopelessness, then it rounded a corner, and he grew professional once more.

“Alright guys, enjoy your trek to the limo.” Geoff said as he gazed out the window.

“Glad I don’t have a long one.” Jack said as he began to walk leisurely over.

“Glad you’re not running a fucking marathon.” Ryan grumbled, and in the car, Jeremy smirked.

They stared out the window, all sat in wait for one particular moment. Jack returned, and they ushered him in quietly, but still waited. Then the doors to Maze Bank opened, and Joel, Adam, and Barbara rushed out.

“Spotted.” Steffie informed the rest over the earpieces, and those in the car observed the group carefully. 

Joel was on the phone, assumably with the kidnappers, with Barb at his side and Adam bringing up the rear, a semi-automatic clutched in his hands. They got into Joel’s Banshee and sped off. That would usually be the moment that Jeremy would tail after them, but they were there for other reasons.

“Let’s wait for the others.” Gavin said, and Geoff nodded. Jeremy couldn’t help but feel a nervous sort of anticipation.

Ryan, Lindsay and Michael arrived a few minutes later, sweaty and gasping for air, and the group let them take a moment to breathe.

“Pigs everywhere.” Ryan groaned, and Lindsay nodded, her face bright red.

“Get it together, I like a nice presentation.” Geoff ordered.

“We should do this soon, we have no idea when he’ll call.” Steffie said, and Geoff nodded.

They got out of the car, every one of them, and when Jeremy looked around, he had to admit that there was an incredible power there. The whole gang, sans one, united and ready to fight, and his friends standing by their side. The fact that there were so many of them was impressive, but the addition of Matt’s strategy and Steffie’s take charge attitude just belonged.

“Follow my lead.” Geoff said, and stepped out to the front of them. 

They fell easily into a sort of formation, with Jack at his right and Gavin at his left, the rest stood faithfully behind him as Jeremy and the other guests took the rear. It didn’t feel bad being in the back; rather, when Jeremy turned to look at his friends, he saw awe in their expressions that he was sure he’d worn the faithful day Jack and Lindsay dragged him into their basement dungeon. As they walked through the bank, people stopped in fear, paled, screamed, ran -- it was a power they’d never known before, and it was straight-up goddamn majestic.

They got into the elevator and rode up in silence, not awkward, but rather determined. The air held the energy that Jeremy had felt when he first set off to do his fateful heist, the excitement and the nerves and a fluttery little feeling in their chests.

They reached the top floor and all stepped out, with a great deal of panicked whispers from the bank employees. Geoff looked around for any Rooster Teeth guys, but they’d apparently all left with Joel.

“Everyone out.” His voice boomed, and in a heartbeat, the crowd scattered, and fled down the stairs.

They all walked into Joel’s office and Geoff nodded to Gavin, who immediately sat down in front of Joel’s computer and began typing. Jack looked back to the wall behind it, which bore a cork board loaded with printed graphs of stock numbers and newspaper clippings of various politicians and brokers commenting on the price of gold. He took it down and set it on the floor, which left only a nondescript wall as a perfect background. Geoff’s phone went off.

“Perfect timing.” Ryan mused, and Geoff stood in front of the blank wall, cleared his throat, and handed the phone to Jeremy. He held it up as Geoff answered the Face Time call.

“Joel.” He said curtly. Joel only gave him a cruel smirk in return.

“Geoff! How are you?” He asked, his voice falsely warm. He was stood in a dark room, and Jeremy sensed that there was more to see than just this one man. After all, someone else held the camera on his end, too.

“Not that fucking great.” Geoff answered, and he sounded as stressed as he had been these past few days. His voice was hoarse and his expression frazzled, and Jeremy mentally commended his acting chops. “I’m guessing you know why.”

Joel only smiled dryly for a moment. Then, he took a few steps to his left, and the camera followed to reveal the rest of the room. Adam stood there, and in front of him, ‘Gavin’ was tied to a folding chair, his face still concealed behind the black bag.

“Well, your boy toy’s missing.” Joel said, and Ray whipped his head around as though delivering a dirty look from beneath his bag. “So that might be an issue.”

“Oi!” Ray squawked. In the room, Michael smirked, and Gavin paused his rifling through the computer to look mildly offended. “You twat!”

“Fuck you, Joel.” Geoff hissed. “That’s how you want to win this? Fucking kidnapping?”

“I don’t have to win it.” He replied evenly. “You can choose not to surrender, and I can just kill him, that shit’s good enough for me.”

“Coward.” Jack said off-camera, his tone biting, and Joel raised his brows and grinned once more.

“Jack!” He greeted jovially. “Oh, wow, the whole gang’s there! Well, almost.”

Geoff fumed. Lindsay stepped forward and moved to rub his shoulder, but he waved her off. In front of him, Gavin clicked away, clearly sure of himself.

“Look, we get it.” He said, and his voice dropped low and deadly. “You’re gonna ask us to turn ourselves in, and if not, you’re gonna hurt our family. We realized that when we planned this, and again when you took him. We know the risks of negotiation.”

Ray’s life was on the line. All of this was acting, and they weren’t negotiating shit, but Ray was in there, and his life was in their hands. They certainly knew the damn risks.

“So you’re willing to negotiate.” Joel mused. “Okay. Your surrender for your friend.”

“Hm. Not so sure about that.” Geoff said flatly. “What do you think, Gav?”

“No dice.” Ray responded. “What about you, Gavin?”

Joel knitted his brow.

“I don’t think we should be messing about with negotiations at all, actually.” The real Gavin called out, and Joel looked even more confused.

“What was that?” He asked, fazed, and Geoff grinned.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” He asked, his voice noticeably giddy, and stepped forward.

Jeremy took a few steps back to reveal the entire crew, Gavin included, all in Joel’s office. Michael smirked, Lindsay cackled, and Ryan’s eyes burned beneath his skull mask. Joel wore a humorous combination of confusion, shock, and outrage. He opened his mouth once or twice, but nothing came out. Behind him, Adam’s eyes were wide.

“Why hello, Gavin!” Geoff greeted, and Gavin grinned at the screen.

“Wha -- how --” Joel turned to look back at his captive, then strode over to him.

He grabbed the black bag and pulled, and was greeted with Ray’s somber expression, hid beneath an enormous fake nose, a metric ton of white foundation, disguised by a powder-blue button down and the skinniest jeans the world has ever seen. He gasped as the canvas fell to the floor, and looked back to Geoff, his jaw hung open.

“See anything interesting?” Geoff asked, and Joel and Adam only stared in silent shock.

“I do, there’s a buttload of crazy stuff in here.” Gavin answered. “Funhaus did some tourist stuff for the city of Boston, apparently? But the RT Syndicate pushed them to do it, they got a huge damn slice of the pay!”

“No!” Joel yelled out as the reality of it sunk in. “You tricked us.”

“No duh.” Geoff said, then looked back down to Gavin. “Look for shit on The Fakes.”

“I can’t believe this!” Joel yelled out, his hands wrapped in his hair. “You -- you can’t just -- just take a card from the idiot that caused all this!”

“Caused this?” Michael asked incredulously. “We owe him fucking everything for stumbling onto your shit!”

“We didn’t just take a card from him.” Ryan added. “We teamed up with the motherfucker.”

Jeremy turned the phone around and faced Joel, who went pale with further shock. The confusion was rampant on his features, and Jeremy felt ridiculous levels of pride and glee as he grinned at the cynical old bastard.

“Have you heard the news that we’re working with Funhaus? Yeah, I do a pretty good Kovic.” Jeremy boasted.

“He’s also a fabulous make-up artist.” Ray piped up behind him. “You prefer the nose or the wig?”

“Geoff.” Gavin said, and Jeremy turned the camera back to the pair. “It was Joel that set up the Pacific Standard scam. He’s got a dummy account that they pay, leads right into the RT assets.”

“I could’ve guessed as much.” Geoff gave his old friend a dark look.

“Fuck you.” Joel said, but he was clearly disturbed, unraveled. “Fuck you, man. You could’ve just stayed away.”

“As if we’d ever treat someone who fucked us over like you did so kindly.” Lindsay retorted.

Gavin clicked something, scanned the words quickly, and furrowed his brow. He read over it again, and a look of dull horror formed on his face.

“Oh my God.” He muttered, and Joel seemed to have a moment of clarity, where he knew precisely what Gavin had discovered. “Jesus Christ.”

“What?” Geoff asked forcefully, too hesitant to bend down and read the screen himself.

“Burnie.” Gavin rubbed his face with his hands, far more stressed than he’d been at the beginning of this mission. “Burnie’s not the leader of Rooster Teeth.”

“Holy shit.” Matt mumbled in the corner of the room, despite himself. He and Steffie had stayed out of sight from the camera; they weren’t exactly civilians, but they didn’t need the danger that came with life as an RT enemy.

“It’s Matt Hullum.” Gavin said, his voice tight. “Matt Hullum took over ages ago. They’ve been covering for years.”

“That can’t be.” Geoff said and leaned over to read the screen. After a moment, his jaw dropped. “Holy crap.”

“That’s the big secret?” Jack asked, dumbfounded. “That’s the reason the Syndicate’s become so corrupted?”

“Matt knows how to make money.” Joel said, stone-faced. “That’s why we put him in charge in the first place.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Geoff asked. “You kept it behind my back? To what end, Joel? We’re all friends!”

“And you’ve always let that get in the way.” Joel answered. “Haven’t you been doing that this entire time? Haven’t all your friendships kept you here in Los Santos, right in the line of fire, put one of your gang in my goddamn hands?”

Geoff could only stare. They’d chosen the route of somewhat peace, the route to try and fix their problems, and yes, things were hairy right now. He knew they’d be safer if they took off, left town and never came back, but that wouldn’t solve shit.

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Jack cut in. “But you’re all using us, fucking us over on Matt’s orders.”

“Why did no one stop that?” Michael asked. “Why did no one see these changes and go ‘hey, maybe we shouldn’t steal from the gangs who work for us?’”

“Loyalty.” Joel shrugged. “Misdirection, a lack of full knowledge.”

“Oh.” A little voice behind the camera said, and Jeremy registered that it was Barb, having a moment of realization. Michael twitched slightly, maybe with relief at knowing she’d had wool over her eyes when she worked against them, but it was barely something to celebrate.

“If you’d caught it without causing a war, you probably could’ve had a full revolt.” Joel continued, and gave Barb a fleeting glance, perhaps to wonder what side she would have been on.

“Civil War.” Geoff mumbled, then looked up to Joel. “I wanna talk to Matt. I wanna make heads or tails of this.”

“Absolutely not --” Adam spoke up for the first time, but was interrupted.

“Then you explain.” Gavin said angrily. “You explain to us why Matt’s position is more important than our trust, our safety, our lives!”

“We never put you in any danger you couldn’t get out of.” Joel said honestly. Now that they knew the truth, he didn’t hold anything back. It must have been a huge weight off his shoulders. “You guys are tough. You can handle yourselves.”

“We shouldn’t have to!” Ryan cried out, and something akin to guilt -- but still not quite -- passed over Joel’s face. “We’re not mercs! We’re meant to have people to lean on!”

“You took that away from us!” Lindsay burst out angrily, and Michael rubbed her arm, though his face showed off the same level of rage. “For a bullshit secret! Who cares if Matt’s in charge? We wouldn’t have cared if you told us!”

“I would have!” Geoff said. “We all founded Rooster Teeth, this should’ve been a joint decision! I should’ve been involved!”

“Geoff.” Jack said, but Geoff shook his head.

“If the secrets weren’t bad enough.” He said in a low voice. “He got the power he wanted and he used it to hurt us. That’s what fucks me up. I want to talk to him. I want answers.”

“You’re the enemy, you’re not talking to anyone!” Adam called out. “Let alone the leader of the biggest crime syndicate in Los Santos!”

“We’re not the enemy.” Jack said rationally. “We’re all friends here, everything’s out in the open now. Come back to your office, bring Ray, call Matt in.”

“We can all talk things through.” Ryan added. “See what we can do to heal the wounds.”

“And then what?” Barb asked from behind the camera. “You’ll forgive him? One guy in a room full of guns is gonna be safe?”

“I don’t think so.” Joel said. “We’re not letting you near him.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid.” Geoff snapped. “We’re all pissed off, but we’re offering peace talks anyway, which, by the way, is the nicest I’ve ever been. Rooster Teeth really doesn’t want the Fakes as their enemies.”

“Are you joking?” Adam laughed. “The Fakes need this syndicate, always have! To us you’re valuable income. To you, we’re your goddamn lifeline.”

“We’re giving you the chance to leave this all behind!” Michael yelled. “To get us and Funhaus back! What the fuck don’t you get here?”

“We don’t have a reason to trust you.” Joel spat. “And you’re trying to bargain when you’re not in any place to do so. I still have your teammate, I can just kill him if I want to.”

“You won’t.” Ray spoke up, and Joel looked to him quizzically. He didn’t say it defiantly, rather as though it were known fact. “You know you won’t. You know what it would mean to kill one of us.”

“We’ve got a tracker on him.” Gavin added. “Try to move him, try to hurt him, we’ll come and get him. As long as we have the means, we’ll come for him.”

Joel laughed aloud, which is sometimes the only thing a person can do when shit’s gone so unbearably wrong.

“You’re bluffing.” Joel said with a smile, but his confidence was obviously false. “Tell me where I am.”

“Wipe that fucking grin off his face, Gav.” Geoff beamed down to his friend, who took out his phone with an insufferably smug look.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Joel.” Michael shook his head. “You’re blowing it right now, Matt’s gonna have your fucking head when he hears about this.”

“Trust me, he’s pissed with you guys.” Joel shot back. “It’s not my head he wants. Where am I, Gavin?”

Jeremy glanced over to see, oh shit, Gavin frowning at his phone. Lindsay saw the same, and though her eyes went wide, she quickly looked back to the camera and covered for him.

“This is such a clusterfuck, Joel!” She shouted. “We did all of this to get the dirt, figure out the problem and fix it, so let us do that!”

“You’re just gonna kill Matt!” Barb shouted back from behind the camera. “We can’t trust you!”

Lindsay gasped; it was one thing to know that your friend was on the other side of a battle, but quite another to hear her openly distrust and fear you. It could only cement the fact that they were enemies.

“We can’t trust you either, but we’re putting that aside!” Ryan yelled. “Grant us the same!”

“You’re a liar!” Adam yelled. “You, Gavin, your whole damn crew!”

“Where are we, Gav?” Joel asked again, now tauntingly, with a nickname that was once used so fondly.

Gavin tapped his screen frantically, and Geoff’s open panic betrayed their stalling.

“Ha! He was fibbing!” Adam jeered, and everyone looked to Gavin in a chaotic fervor of nerves.

“No, wait!” He stammered. “X-Ray, shift position a bit, you’re sat right on it!”

“No.” Ray said quietly, and everyone paused their screeching and panicking and looked at him.

He still seemed somber, but his eyes wouldn’t look up to the camera, and they had no idea what he was thinking. It was insane, how all the sound in the world could die out with one small voice, as it had done in that office and whatever dungeon Joel had Ray tucked in.

“Ray?” Ryan questioned in a small voice, and that broke the silence.

“Ray, shift your bony ass around so he can --” Geoff began his angry yell, but was cut off.

“Shut up, Geoff.” He said in the same tone, and still refused to look up.

Oh no. Jeremy looked around to see if they were all thinking the same thing, and the heartbreak on their faces confirmed it. Michael looked confused beyond words, while Jack was visibly tearing up. He realized why he was so relieved that Funhaus didn’t have a traitor in their own ranks; in two seconds, he’d seen more pain on these people’s faces than he’d ever known himself.

“Not you, Ray.” Gavin whispered. “Please not you.”

“No.” Ray shook his head. “I’m not.”

Joel gave him an odd look of confusion, and Adam wore a similar uncertainty. Jeremy saw a slim bit of hope on Lindsay’s face, then panic as she seemed to add the pieces together.

“Ray, no, you idiot!” She said, and Ray sighed heavily.

“What the hell is going on?” Geoff demanded, and Ray finally looked up. His eyes were red, though he fought his tears, but his resolution was clearly shattered. He looked indescribably small.

“I’m better off as a hostage.” He said, his voice hoarse. “I’m staying with them.”

Everyone paused, and the Fakes glanced between themselves without time for relief. They simultaneously tried to decide who would be the one to talk him out of this nonsense.

“Um, holy fuck, that’s the worst idea you’ve ever had, Ray.” Michael spoke up after a tense moment, and Ryan nodded stiffly in agreement. Ray only looked undeterred.

“Lindsay can snipe if you give her the right rooftop. I don’t know what the hell you guys are gonna do from here, but you won’t need me to do it.” Ray said rationally. Clearly, he thought this through. “If they have a Fake, they have a bargaining chip. Thankfully, I’m not a particularly useful one.”

“What? Why the hell would you willingly give them a bargaining chip?” Geoff asked, loud and confused, but Ray had his answer prepared.

“Because you’re going to get back to them. You’re all going to work for RT again.” Ray said. “I’m building the bridge. Odds are Joel won’t hurt me, I already said as much.”

He looked up to Joel, who’d softened considerably since Ray began speaking, and gave him an apologetic shrug. Joel’s expression remained tense and unchanged, and he gave no nod in return.

“And you won’t hurt them while I’m in their care, you can’t risk my safety. You’re basically at a stalemate.” He continued. “So you have to settle things reasonably. You’re gonna look back on me as the hero.”

“Don’t.” Michael said, a bit nasal, and Jeremy knew he was fighting tears. “Don’t fucking use the past tense.”

At this, Ray gave him a sad little look.

“I didn’t say it was perfect. Maybe someone less kind than Joel will decide they don’t need leverage, or I’m too much of a bother.” At the prospect of losing his life, Ray looked more mournful for his gang’s potential loss than the ending of himself. “But it’s a chance to make amends, and that’s a start, isn’t it?”

For a moment, they were all stunned into silence. Ray was sitting there, surrounded by former allies, so certain of their friendships -- he and Joel, Geoff and Matt, Michael and Andy, and maybe even Ryan and Tyler -- that he was willing to be captured just to prove Rooster Teeth wouldn’t have the heart to kill him. It was an ingeniously bold move, to bypass any drama the two sides could conjure up and not only announce the pointlessness of it all, but deny them the ability to continue.

Jeremy wasn’t a part of the Fake AH Crew. He was just a fan. But if he had to perfectly describe Ray’s personality, outside all the jokes and all the memes, this scenario would sum it up; smart, self-sacrificing, just a little bit desperate. In the midst of this absolutely horrible situation, Jeremy knew this totally cemented his Slytherin!Ray headcanon.

None of the crew really knew what to say. The first to make a move was Joel, to turn from the camera and step towards Ray. Ryan audibly sucked in his breath, and Michael took a useless half-step forward before Joel reached down and pulled a knife from his pocket.

“No!” Gavin yelled, and Joel ignored him, grabbed Ray’s bound hands from behind his back, and cut the zip tie that held them. Ray gave him a questioning look, and Joel turned away.

“Go home, Ray.” He said quietly. “Go be with your family.”

“Joel, if we lose our hostage, we lose our leverage.” Barb warned him, but her tone sounded reluctant. Ray looked up at her despondently.

“Someone could kill him. The moment they realize we’re in a stalemate.” Joel said. “Coe’s pissed, imagine if --”

“No.” Ray murmured, then spoke louder. “Wait, no! Joel, please!”

“Joel --” Adam said, but Joel gave him a firm look.

“No!” Ray yelled. “No, you’re ruining everything! I won’t leave!”

“Tie him up again outside.” Joel said to Adam, then turned back to the camera and spoke curtly. “He’ll be on the corner of Marlowe and Milton.”

“Don’t! Fucking don’t!” Ray shouted as he began to grow hysterical. It was gruesome, but they couldn’t look away -- after all, it was exactly what needed to be done. Adam grabbed him by the arms, and Ray went slack and tried to sit defiantly on the ground.

“Bastards! Fucking bastards!” Adam started to drag him off camera while Ray kicked and flailed against him, his voice hoarse and tears on his cheeks. “You’re ruining our only fucking chance! Barb, Barb please! Please help me!”

Barb turned away, and the camera angle went with her. The crew heard rather than saw Ray dragged out of the room, kicking and screaming the whole way. The cries were gut-wrenching, and Jeremy saw Geoff close his eyes and age about fifteen years. Lindsay was noticeably crying, Jack was taking heavy breaths. When Joel stepped in front of the camera once more, his expression harrowed, no one made a sound.

“Get out of my office. Corner of Marlowe and Milton.” He repeated sternly, and his eyes flicked up to Barb. “End the call.”

“Joel.” She said, her voice shaky. “Holy shit.”

“End the call.” He repeated, and with a sigh from Barb, the screen went dark.  



	16. Chapter 16

Ray was tied to a lamp post on the promised corner. Ryan was the one brave enough (or perhaps just the best at disguising his feelings) to exit the limo to cut him down, whilst the rest watched on miserably. He hobbled and Ray trudged back to the car, where they piled in with a deathly silence. Up close, Ray’s makeup bore obvious tear tracks, and his nose was even more ridiculously crooked than before, but no one said a word.

They returned to Trevor’s in silence, with Geoff white-knuckled at the wheel and the rest of the team purposely distracted. Ryan inspected his burnt leg idly, Gavin reviewed security footage on his tablet, Lindsay counted the gold coins they’d stolen from Joel’s office the moment Barbara hung up. When they finally got through the door, they found two new people inside.

“Geoff.” Trevor addressed the boss carefully (he’d already heard from Jeremy that the mission hadn’t gone well). “This is Caleb, he’s a nurse.”

“It’s an honor, sir.” The tall, lanky man said, and Geoff nodded gruffly.

“He’s got a burned leg.” He said, straight to the point, and gestured to Ryan, who at this point had totally given up on wearing a mask in front of the ever increasing amount of minions.

“Have a seat.” Caleb said, and led Ryan over to the couch.

“And this is Kdin.” Trevor continued, and the shorter of the pair smiled. “Kdin’s gonna be our tech support for Gavin.”

“I also do stake-outs and filming.” Kdin added helpfully.

“Come on, side-kick, let me show you our set-up.” Gavin said, and took her to the other end of the room. 

Ray plopped onto the armchair, Michael and Lindsay sat on the couch, Geoff and Jack headed to the kitchen. When Jack returned, he handed out bottled water and a Diet Coke, and Geoff carried in a bottle of whiskey and a stack of plastic cups that were quickly taken over the neglected water.

“We have new information.” Geoff said as he poured himself a drink. “We know everything there is to know. This was a win.”

Trevor and Caleb shared a doubtful look, but as they didn’t know the details, didn’t speak up.

“This is a win.” Jack confirmed. “This is a celebratory drink, guys!”

The rest of the room joined in on those doubtful looks.

“No offense, Jack.” Lindsay began as she rubbed at her injured arm. “But we’re all bummed way the fuck out, and I’m just waiting for Geoff to explode, so now’s not the time for a happy drink.”

“Oh, I’m gonna explode alright.” Geoff said with a frustrated glance in Ray’s direction. “After I get enough alcohol in me to make this tolerable.”

“Geoff.” Jack said in his usual warning tone, but Geoff gave him a look that almost made him bite his tongue. “I don’t think yelling’s the best thing to do right now.”

“Well it’s what we all want to do, isn’t it?” Michael spoke up, and he too glared at Ray, who didn’t catch the look as he kept his eyes in his lap. “Because _somebody’s_ dumbass decision almost got himself . . .”

He didn’t finish his sentence, and Ray pulled off his prosthetic nose and wiped his cheek with his sleeve, but said nothing. The air became infinitely more tense.

“Yeah, Jack, no one’s pissed off that somebody forgot that we’re a team.” Geoff seethed. “And that we make all our decisions together.”

“You never would’ve let me go if I told you about it.” Ray said quietly.

“Because it was a bad idea! We stick together, we don’t throw ourselves in the line of fire for no goddamn reason!” Geoff returned swiftly. The so-called minions looked a little frightened to even be there while Geoff was shouting like that.

“Settle down, Geoff.” Jack cut in predictably, but Ray gave him a look of shock and horror.

“For no reason? For no reason, Geoff? We’re being hunted by the biggest crime syndicate in Los Santos! We’re gonna get picked off by our friends one by one!” Ray cried out, and his terror was clearly displayed. “That friendship is all we have, so I took advantage of it --”

“They’re not our friends anymore!” Geoff yelled, his voice raw. “They’re not our family! They lied to us, betrayed us, worked behind our backs just for the sake of the syndicate!”

Did he believe it? Probably not, but it hurt them all to hear, and Jeremy saw Gavin shrink back whilst Ryan leaned forward, much to Caleb’s dismay.

“There’s hope.” Ryan cut in. “Joel let Ray go. Tyler shot a cop gunning for us. They don’t want us hurt.”

“Matt does.” Gavin said hesitantly, but Jack shook his head as Caleb tutted Ryan and continued on with his leg.

“Joel was lying, it was all empty threats. Had to be. Matt’s our friend and he loves us.” Jack said, and Jeremy spotted Steffie look hopeful, but she knew this wasn’t her fight and kept quiet. The rest of them just looked awkward; supremely out of place as the guests to a heated family dinner.

“Burnie put a gun to my head when he thought we were working with Funhaus.” Geoff reminded him. “And you know he’s half as ruthless as Matt. Remember when Joel said this was all because I put my friends first? That’s Matt’s rhetoric. Our friendship buys us next to nothing.”

“It would’ve bought us peace.” Ray urged. “It would’ve ended this war, if you just let me --”

“Did we let you go, Ray?” Lindsay asked suddenly, steamed over with anger. “Did we kick you out of our dungeon and tie you to a lamp post or some shit?”

“You wanted him to!” He exclaimed. “You probably had to hold back your cheering!”

“Yeah, that wasn’t painful for us at all.” Gavin said sarcastically, his tone biting to hide the rawness beneath it. “Seeing you put your life at risk, watching you scream and cry when you got dragged out --”

“Because I almost saved us! Do you know how hard this shit is, with all your lives weighing on me?” Ray asked, and looked depraved with frustration. “All of you, all the time!”

“It weighs on all of us.” Jack said with a calm front, but sounded strangled and nasal. “It’s the one set back of team work.”

“I’m better off alone.” Ray barked out like it was a bitter truth, and Jeremy truly didn’t know if that was so. “I’m fucking better off alone, if I do my own shit I can help. Somehow.”

“Share the fucking weight, Ray.” Michael said, his expression grown soft and his tone gone caring. “You need to work with us instead of --”

“Instead of throwing your life away.” Geoff snorted, and Michael gave him a look.

“Can you not be the gruff asshole for two minutes, please?” Michael said, and Kdin gasped in a bout of shock and bad timing. Michael was pretty severely unnerved to talk back to Geoff, but of course their boss didn’t let it go.

“I’m kind of dealing with some shit, Michael, so maybe don’t give Ray the baby-talk and let me actually handle my team.” Geoff shot back. “I’m kind of the leader here, just to remind you.”

“And you’re doing such a great job with that.” Michael hissed, and Geoff took a step closer. Lindsay stood up, and Trevor stepped back in a panic and tripped. It seemed to alert the rest of the gang that these almost strangers were still present, and Geoff walked up even closer to Michael, directly in his face.

“I know you’re only pissy because you’re concerned with Ray.” Geoff seethed quietly. “But I’m the boss, and when one of my gang members practically commits suicide --”

Michael shoved him, and Gavin shot to his feet.

“Mogar!” He shouted as Michael knocked Geoff back against the wall. Geoff instinctively grabbed at his hands whilst Michael clenched the front of his shirt. The rest of them stood, sans Ryan, Caleb and Ray, alarmed but unsure of what to do.

“Don’t use that word!” Michael said, the despondency clear as the rage mixed with tears. “Don’t say that, Jesus Christ!”

Oh. Jack paled and looked over to Ray, and the rest of the group followed his eyes, even the stunned and terrified guests. Ray held his head in his hands, his thoughts unknown to them.

“Fucking hell.” Geoff mumbled, but seemed understanding, and Michael let go of him and smoothed out his shirt. Michael wiped tears from the corners of his eyes, then glared around the room as though daring anyone to point it out. Then, he looked to Ray, grew saddened once more, and took a step over to him.

“I’m sorry, Ray.” Michael said softly. “I’m so fucking sorry you’re dealing with this.”

Ray looked up again, teary-eyed once more, and Jeremy felt a lump in his own throat as he stood and watched this family desperately try to hold things together.

“I don’t want to die.” He said, his voice high-pitched. “But we all know that I -- I’ve been struggling. And I want out.”

From the reaction in the room, this was already common knowledge, but it had never been voiced aloud. Geoff looked as though he’d been slapped across the face, Jack nodded and seemed infinitely wise, and Gavin seemed crestfallen, as though he’d suspected as much for awhile, but always hoped it wasn’t true. Jeremy had his own realization, and after a moment of silence, spoke up for the first time.

“You can never leave while the syndicate and the Fake AH Crew are at war.” Jeremy said. “They’ll always see you as the enemy. You can never be free.”

Ray nodded stiffly, but no one else moved or made a sound.

“If you end this, you can move on, become a civilian, and try to get better.” Jeremy continued thoughtfully. “If not . . .”

If not, he’d just continue like this. He’d be depressed on and on, and something like what happened today would happen again an again until something went really wrong and it couldn’t happen any more.

“Leaving Los Santos was never an option.” Geoff said after a moment of restless silence. “We would never be safe, we would never get our friends back, and Ray would always be trapped in this.”

“None of us could do that to him.” Michael muttered, and Ray looked away. No one in the crew could cause him that kind of grief, give him that longevity in his pain. “And we never will. So let’s end this.”

“One way or another.” Lindsay said firmly. “We’re the Fake AH Crew. We’ve lost a lot of battles, but this time, it’s a choice between victory and going out in a blaze of glory.”

“Agreed.” Gavin spoke up. “Not to get too dark, but I think we should form a suicide pact.”

“Seems reasonable.” Ryan added, and the rest nodded.

“Yeah, I’m in.” Jeremy said, and no one moved to disagree with him. Again, he felt as though he belonged.

“Then you need a plan.” Steffie said, and they all looked to her. “A great one, one that’ll give you the deaths you deserve if you fail.”

There was a sudden determination in the room, even if it was marred with uncertainty. Geoff quickly hardened, and raised his plastic cup. The rest followed, though Ryan lifted a Diet Coke, Ray a bottled water, Caleb a package of gauze, and Kdin the closest USB.

“To great achievements or beautiful deaths.” Geoff said.

“To Ray.” Michael added, and nodded to him.

“To those we can trust.” Jack said, and the guests looked humbled.

“If no one minds, I’d like to propose a name for this lot.” Gavin said, and Geoff nodded. “To the B-team.”

“Nice.” Lindsay grinned. “To the B-team!”

They all drank, and the atmosphere was a little lighter, but there was still work to be done, so Geoff got to the center of the room as everyone sat back down.

“Okay, let’s gather our assets, show what we have going for us.” He said. “We have a full team; Matt to set up the scene, Steffie to fix our problems, Kdin on tech, Caleb as a team medic --”

“Hope he’s not a pacifist.” Ryan muttered, and Lindsay snickered. Geoff moved on with a roll of his eyes.

“And we’ve got Trevor as . . .” He paused. “What the fuck do you do, Trevor?”

“I’m a thief. But I can do any odd jobs.” Trevor shrugged. “Sniper, getaway driver.”

“Jizz drinker.” Ray added, and Geoff burst into laughter.

“We’ve also got gold coins from Joel.” Lindsay said, practically as a brag, and showed off the coins in her hands. “Spending cash! Ca-ching!”

“It’ll be tracked really easily.” Jeremy pointed out, and thought back to the gold bars he was paid in back when Joel hired him for the Pacific Standard job.

“Whatever we spend, we should do it at the last possible second.” Steffie agreed. “Then if they track it, you’ll be friends or dead anyway.”

“We’ll have to figure out exactly what guns we’ll use, exactly the amount of ammo.” Jack said. “Some math for Ray.”

“I’ll math the shit out that.” Ray vowed solemnly. “What the hell else do we have on our side?”

“That’s pretty much it.” Ryan said as Caleb stood. “Well, my leg’s fixed up, that’s helpful.”

“Pass dat vicodin!” Michael cheered, and Caleb gave him a firm look. “Alright, alright. We’ve listed our benefits. But what’s our goal?”

“I’m gonna meet with Matt, face to face.” Geoff said as Caleb moved over to Lindsay, grateful to have her arm checked. “For all the shit I’ve been saying, Ray’s right, we are friends. We can talk it out, and if we can’t . . . that’s it, game over.”

“Well here’s a question: If you fail, do you want to spare Hullum, or kill him with you?” Trevor asked, and Geoff shrugged.

“None of the crew should survive.” He said. “B-Team, stick around, tell our story. I know you little nerds probably all wanna die for us --”

“We’re good.” Caleb said instantly, and Matt snorted.

“Let the cards fall where they may.” Geoff decided. “If Matt dies, whatever. But if we lose, I have to get killed off.”

“So that’s some semblance of a plan.” Steffie said. “We have to create something to get to Matt, but kill off all of you should we not succeed.”

“That’s obvious, then.” Ray said. Everyone gave him a confused look. “Seriously, guys?”

“You’re the clever one.” Michael said, then gave Ryan the side-eye. “Why don’t you share some of your genius?”

“I’m not a people person!” Ryan answered defensively. “Unless you want advice on skinning one.”

“I mean it’s obvious.” Ray continued. “That we need to plan a heist.”

“Oh, holy fuck.” Trevor grinned. “We’re gonna help the Fakes do a heist!”

“Oh my god, my dumb fanboy heart can’t take this.” Matt practically swooned.

“Now that’s an idea.” Jack smiled. “We’ve almost died on heists so many times, man.”

“And we’re legends for it.” Gavin pulled out a golden gun and twirled it in his hands. “We can go out with a bang.”

“And we’ve got the perfect planner.” Michael said, then looked to Jeremy.

“What, me?” He asked, and the entirety of the B-Team nodded.

“Lindsay captured you, the Fakes interrogated you, and yet you’re still alive.” Kdin said. “Practically part of the team.”

“You’re the fanboy who lived.” Steffie said, and Lindsay laughed. “I get that you’re not the planning sort, but you’ve got me, Matt and the crew to help you out.”

“And give you notes.” Ryan added. “We never would’ve returned that cargobob ‘Jack’ stole during that first heist of yours.”

“Wow.” Jeremy grinned, humbled. “Alright. Let’s plan the ultimate heist.”

Gavin whooped, and Ray gave a small grin. Geoff beamed, and Jeremy had never felt so good, so proud. This was what he started; the formation of the B-Team, a great heist in the making, Ray’s freedom and their own within their grasps.

“Wait.” Matt said suddenly. “Do we actually know where Hullum is?”

“Knowing him?” Geoff asked. “I do. Someone get me a map.”

Trevor rushed out of the room, and returned moments later with a map. He spread it out on the coffee table, and Geoff peered over it for a moment, then pointed to the spot he believed Matt was staying.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Jack groaned. “Fort Zancudo?”

“He’s in with enough of the military.” Geoff nodded. “He knows we can’t touch him there.”

“He _thinks_ we can’t.” Kdin said, and Geoff nodded once more.

“It’s all up to you now, Jerem.” Matt said. “The fanboy that got higher than everyone else.”

“And yet he’s still two feet shorter than the rest of you.” Jack mused, and Gavin suddenly looked inspired.

“Lil’ J!” Gavin yelled, and Jeremy gasped.

“I got a nickname!” Jeremy cheered, and the rest cheered along with him and raised their cups. “This is the best day of my life!”

“Nerd.” Geoff said, but could barely conceal his half-grin. “Start planning.”

“I call piloting.” Jack said.

“Find me a place to snipe from.” Ray grinned.

“Just get me in so I can get to the tank.” Michael said, and Lindsay beamed.

“Alright.” Jeremy rubbed his hands together. “Let’s plan this shit.”


	17. Chapter 17

Here’s the thing: we need to build a bomb.” Steffie said prudently.

They were sitting in Trevor’s living room with roughly a million papers strewn about, several maps taped to the walls, and one new whiteboard covered in writing. Jeremy looked around the room, a Red Bull in hand and mugs of coffee in everyone else’s. They were a long way into the planning stage, but still had far more to go.

“Does anyone know how to do that?” She continued hopefully.

“Depends on the bomb, but essentially, yeah.” Michael volunteered.

“We can tweak the plan however we need to.” Matt said. “I just got back from scoping the place out, I have all the blueprints memorized -- we’ve got this.”

“We need the explosion to be stable enough for Ray’s transport.” Jeremy said. “And be triggered by Gavin’s gunshot.”

“Triggered by a gunshot rules out C-4. I would say dynamite, but it sounds like we’re going entirely homemade on this one.” Michael said, and Jeremy nodded.

“The only explosives dealers we know are Miles and Kerry, and they’re RT.” Geoff said from behind his glass of whiskey. “Your talents will have to be enough.”

“Assuming there’s gonna be a lot of fire around, let’s not bother with any wiring.” Michael said thoughtfully. “That’ll keep it stable on the ride over, and if the gunshot doesn’t do the trick, it’ll blow some time in the fire anyway, no need for anyone to approach.”

“And I’ll help you out, but if we’re not doing wires or timers, there’s not much I can do.” Jeremy said, and Michael nodded. “For now, write a grocery list.”

“We’re gonna need a shit ton of fertilizer.” He said, and looked over to Gavin, who squawked with approval.

“That’s perfect, because we have to go to the hardware store anyway.” Jeremy said, and Matt began to write a list. “We need a tank sprayer for Jack.”

“What exactly is a tank sprayer again?” Kdin asked.

“It’s the little plastic tub you use to spray weed killer and stuff.” Ray answered. “I’m hispanic, I know my yard work.”

“There’s gonna be an interesting mix of chemicals in there thanks to our resident nurse.” Jack said, and Caleb gave a pointed grin.

“We’re gonna get along well.” Ryan said with raised brows, and Lindsay groaned.

“Even when you make friends you’re creepy.” She said, and he shrugged.

“Okay, Matt, what’s our situation with the electricity?” Jeremy moved on, and he picked up a stack of photos.

“They’re running off the local power plant, same as everyone else, but they’ve got a backup system on the facility.” He stood and taped a picture to the whiteboard. “The main breaker is deep inside the place, but see this tunnel?”

“Where Route One runs beneath the base.” Geoff nodded.

“There’s a maintenance hatch inside. We just need to break into a panel and fuck up a few wires.” Matt said, then turned to Trevor. “Sounds like a thief’s job to me.”

“Getting into Palmer-Taylor and finding out which wires to pull sounds like a thief's job.” Steffie corrected, and Trevor groaned. “Go now, quickly.”

“Geoff.” Trevor whined, and Geoff looked surprised to be spoken to in such a dad-way. “Do I have to?”

“Ugh.” He said eloquently, but set down his whiskey. “If you can take a crew member will it shut your fanboy mouth?”

“Dibs on Lindsay.” Trevor replied instantly, and Lindsay smirked as she stood.

“Have fun, honey.” Michael said, and Lindsay kissed him on the cheek, then grabbed her gun.

“All stealth, no murder, and a B-team member to babysit. Yeah, sounds like a blast.” She said with a roll of her eyes, and the two departed without another word.

“For now, that just leaves our vehicles.” Jeremy continued. “Jack and Lindsay will steal a speedboat.”

“Just for two?” Jack asked, and Jeremy shrugged.

“Since we’re not planning any escape and you two are the only ones riding in on it, yeah.” He said, and noted that Ray couldn’t hide his nervous look.

“What else are we stealing?” Ryan asked in a rushed tone. He noticed Ray’s worry as well.

“You’re in charge of the fighter jet.” Jeremy said. “Whatever’s parked at Sandy Shores Airfield will do.”

“We assume some rich asshole will have one around.” Jack cut in.

“The word ‘assume’ is being featured pretty heavily in all this planning.” Kdin mused, and Jeremy frowned.

“Everything’s gonna be fine.” Steffie said calmly. “None of these assumptions are major make or break shit.”

“Is anything make or break in a suicide mission?” Ryan asked pointedly. “If something goes wrong, it’ll kill us, which is already kind of the point.”

“Not the time, Ry.” Jack groaned, and waved his hand to signal Jeremy to continue.

“Ray, you’re gonna hitch a ride with Ryan to get to the airport, then grab a Cargobob.” He said, and Ray nodded. “You’ll take it and hide somewhere, hang back for awhile.”

“Gotcha.” Ray said.

“After that, all that’s left is a shopping montage to send to the local news and a trip to Ammu-Nation.” Jeremy finished confidently. He’d planned every last detail, and he was certain things would go alright, or as alright as they could be in the given situation.

“Which we’ll be doing last, since we’re paying in Joel’s gold.” Geoff added.

“Okay, why don’t I go on a supplies run while you and Michael --” Steffie pointed to Jeremy. “Get pen to paper, plan out that bomb.”

“I’ll round up what weapons we plan on buying and crunch some numbers.” Ray volunteered.

“Steff, I’ll go with you to the hardware store, make sure we get equipment I’m comfortable with.” Jack stood, and Steffie nodded.

“Let’s all do our jobs and regroup when Lindsay and Trevor get back. We’ll check our progress then.” Geoff said, and everyone nodded and shifted around.

The next few hours were spent with Gavin and Kdin huddled in front of their monitors, Geoff and Ryan re-reading plans and consulting Caleb on their upcoming chemical warfare, Jeremy and Michael hunched over papers before going out to buy a large plastic bin to mix everything into. By the time Jack and Steffie had settled in and Jeremy and Michael were measuring ingredients, Trevor and Lindsay had just arrived as well.

“We have some pictures to print, someone else update first.” Lindsay said as Trevor handed Gavin his phone to get the photos.

“I organized our shopping trip to Ammu-Nation tomorrow and sorted it into a spreadsheet.” Ray held it up. “Steffie, I’ll assume it’s your job to keep us on target with this.”

“How right you are, Ray.” She said as he passed the paper over.

“Steffie and I shopped ‘til we dropped and got all of our hardware down.” Jack reported as he unboxed the plastic tank sprayer. “Here’s the tank, there’s a nozzle. We even hooked up Michael and Lil’ J with their ingredients.”

“And we’re measuring away.” Jeremy said with an uncontrollable smile at the mention of his nickname. “I feel like I’m baking.”

“We’re halfway done, this sucker’ll be ready by tomorrow night.” Michael added.

“Tomorrow night’s the night, then.” Geoff said, and looked up to Gavin. “Right?”

“I’ll let him know.” Gavin said, then went to his laptop. “You sure this is alright, Lil’ J?”

“If we’re getting onto a military base, we need someone from military.” He said firmly, and Gavin gave him an excited grin that bordered on child-like joy.

“I’ll try to manage travel in the future, but we can’t risk them finding out what we’re doing.” Steffie said. “So Gavin’s the only one in contact for now.”

“I ought to be, I’m his best mate!” Gavin said, then looked back to his laptop. “He’s leaving tomorrow morning. It’ll be a miracle if he gets out of England without RT noticing.”

“We’re due.” Geoff said gruffly. “Now who wants to order some pizza?”

“Who can eat now? Dan’s coming, I’m too excited for food.” Ray mumbled as Kdin moved for the phone, and Michael burst out laughing.

“Hold on, we’ve got one more topic to discuss.” Lindsay said, and held up a copy of the file she and Trevor had read at the power plant. “This is the wire layout of the base’s back-up system. Notice that it’s confusing as all fuck.”

It was, as Lindsay had so eloquently stated, confusing as all fuck. The series of wires were labeled with whatever industry jargon they couldn’t decipher, and were so intricately twisted around each other that it would take a considerable amount of effort to understand the mechanics.

“I’ve been studying like crazy, I have no idea what I can do here.” Trevor said, and Matt smirked, surely with thoughts of his Minecraft redstone in his head.

“Let me see that.” He said, and Lindsay handed him the paper. He examined it for a moment, his expression studious. “Okay, that’s tolerable. I can walk you through this.”

“We weren’t going to take you to the scene.” Jack frowned. “You sure you want to risk your safety like that?”

“On the outside of the base with a trained thief?” Matt asked with raised brows. “No biggie. I’ll heist with the Fake AH Crew any day, of course I’ll risk it!”

“Attaboy!” Jeremy clapped him on the back, and all ninety pounds of him crumpled into the couch. “Let’s heist!”

“Pizza first.” Ryan said, emphasizing what the real priority was.

They all scattered around, but Matt remained next to Jeremy, and gave him a shrewd look.

“You’ll be in more danger than I will tomorrow.” He said, and Jeremy nodded. It wasn’t the most pleasant thing to think about, but clearly his friend was concerned.

“I’m gonna die if this doesn’t work. I get that.” He slung an arm around his shoulders. “But I’m good with it. This has been an absolutely insane experience; I worked hard and created something beautiful, and in return got in the good graces of my favorite people in the world.”

It really was insanity, and when Jeremy looked back at the past two weeks of his life, he was in awe, he was humbled, and most important of all, he was ready. Ready to leave behind his life as a petty thief and an adoring fan and step into the role he was always meant for, as something more. He gave Matt a steady look.

“And I’m grateful for every minute of it, and if this is the price to pay, I’m glad to pay it.” He finished, then felt a small grin on his lips. As serious as it was, he really would be happy to pay any price.

“I get that.” Matt said softly. “Just -- make sure it works.”

“I did. I planned out every step.” Jeremy assured him. “Don’t worry about me. You’ll tell my heroic tale if something happens, it’ll be cool as shit, everything will be fine.”

Matt snorted and gave him a small grin, but said nothing. Soon after, when Gavin roped him into this odd conversation about flipping coins, Jeremy thought that he should’ve felt nervous, terrified even, but he held the same calm the rest of them did, or at least that which they presented. In the face of the greatest challenge any of them had ever known, he couldn’t help but feel that everything would be alright. Maybe that would be enough to carry them through.

The next day, he and Michael measured and packed the bomb, the group went over the instructions one more time, and finally, in the afternoon, everyone was standing in the apartment’s parking lot, all gathered in front of the limo.

“We’re going out as a group to Ammu-Nation.” Geoff began, and everyone turned to watch their leader speak. “Then we’re going shopping and splitting up for our tasks. So I wanna say something now.”

They were all stock still. Given that Kdin was going to stay in the apartment, this would be the last time they would all be together, potentially forever.

“Let’s not get sappy on the battlefield. Hell, I’d prefer we not do that at all, but if anyone wants to give their goodbyes, do it now.” Geoff said, his voice firm yet full of care. “I have so much faith in all of you. You’re all gonna do everything right, and if they choose not to honor our friendship, it’s not on any of you.”

Jack nodded, and looked over the gang proudly, even the newbies. Their nerves were a lot more obvious now, but with their leader’s encouragement, the entire group seemed to soften. Geoff looked slightly emotional, and cleared his throat before he continued.

“You’ve all done right by me. You’ve all worked together, as a family.” He said, and Ray shifted guiltily. Geoff gave him a knowing look. “And that’s what we are, even with all our crazy moments; the sacrifices, the bad plans, the screaming and yelling.”

“The mug throwing.” Michael added helpfully.

“The insulting British accents.” Gavin supplied.

“The annoying British whining.” Ryan grinned, and Gavin scowled.

“Shut up, I’m making a speech.” Geoff said, but his anger was false and his fondness couldn’t be subdued. “What i’m trying to say is that you guys are my family, and I love you.”

Jeremy didn’t know what usually went on before a heist, but with his knowledge of Geoff, the gruff leader of the greatest gang in Los Santos, he could bet anything that said gang didn’t get an ‘I love you.’ They all shifted and exchanged a funny look; they were wonderful words to hear, but they knew it was only because this might be goodbye that they were hearing them.

“Now, if something happens to me --” Geoff began, but Jack cut him off.

“Then something happens to all of us.” He said firmly, but Geoff ignored him and continued steadfast.

“If something happens to me, but you guys still get a happy ending, there’s only one other person on this earth who can lead you.” He said firmly, and everyone looked up to that person. It was an unspoken truth, but a clear and simple one. “Lindsay, do what you have to do.”

“Yes, sir.” She said, and he saluted her.

“And if we all get out of this mess, and it doesn’t interfere with peace talks, you’re getting that promotion anyway.” He said, and she was the only one who didn’t look surprised. Everyone else, including Jeremy, was floored. “I’m old and I wanna have my fun. I’ll do so as a member of this gang, not the leader.”

“I hope we live just to see that.” Gavin said, then put on a mischievous grin. “Geoff’s gonna be the most fun arsehole in the entire goddamn world.”

“I’m ready.” Lindsay said, her head held high, and Michael absolutely beamed at her. “But for now, we should focus on kicking ass.”

“Okay, people, let’s do this!” Jack yelled, and everyone cheered as they all ushered into a severely crowded limo. Caleb gave Kdin a quick hug goodbye, who waved them off as Steffie started the engine.

“This is it.” Matt mumbled next to Jeremy. “There’s a bomb in the trunk and a few murders to prep.”

“We’re going shopping first, don’t forget that.” Jeremy pointed out, then grinned faintly. “It’s all good. I’m good with this.”

“No going back now, Lil’ J.” Gavin said, and Jeremy smiled.

“Just the fact that I’m Lil’ J makes me alright with that.” He said, and Ryan laughed. “Let’s do this.”

 

* * *

 

“I picked up a LAZER.” Jack spoke over the earpieces. “Everyone copy?”

“Copy. Michael and I are about to ‘acquire’ a speedboat.” Ryan replied. They all heard a faint thud in the background. “Aw, shit, his guts are all over the steering wheel!”

Michael laughed devilishly, and Jack climbed into the LAZER as Gavin strapped into the pilot’s chair of his and Jeremy’s vehicle.

“And we’ve got the Cargobob.” He said. “Geoff, status.”

“We’re in position.” Steffie answered for him. “Weather’s clear. Matt and Trevor?”

“In position.” Trevor answered. “Just outside the tunnel, we’re waiting for Kdin to knock out the power before we go in.”

“Ray?” Jeremy asked, and heard a displeased huff.

“I’m making the trek.” He answered with a heavy breath. “Have I mentioned how much I love being the sniper? Nothing better than climbing hills and scaling buildings all damn day.”

“On our way.” Michael spoke up. “We’re heading in south from Paleto Bay, be there in ten.”

“I can knock out the power whenever you need me to.” Kdin added from her place in front of Gavin’s laptop.

“We’re all set to go then.” Jeremy said, and took a deep breath. “Jack, take off when you’re ready.”

“I’m ready.” He said, and they heard the whine of his engines as he powered up the plane. After a moment, he began to taxi down the runway, then took off into the distance.

“Want me to follow, ‘Geoff?’” Gavin asked Jeremy, who grinned behind his tuxedo and tattoos.

“Yeah, land on a road a little closer to the base.” Jeremy said, and the Cargobob began to rise. “Carefully.”

“Don’t worry about it, boss.” Gavin said confidently, and slid a fresh pair of golden sunglasses onto his nose.

“May I remind you that you’re carrying a fucking bomb?” Lindsay asked pointedly, and Jeremy laughed.

They flew in silence for a few minutes, then took up a new position on Mount Chiliad. As they powered down, the sky grew rapidly darker. It was nearly time.

“I’m within eyesight.” Jack reported.

“We’re like, a minute away.” Michael added, and Jeremy grinned.

“Kdin, kill the power.” He ordered. They were nowhere near civilization, and couldn’t tell at all when the lights would go.

“Done.” Kdin replied within a minute.

“Matt and Trevor, go.” Geoff ordered, and the pair rushed into the tunnel.

Matt shone a flashlight onto the panel as Trevor pulled out his lock pick kit. After a quick jostling, he swung it open, and Matt shone the light onto a thick black cord.

“Push that out of the way.” He directed. “See that blue one? Cut it.”

Trevor cut the wire, and they both held their breath.

“Base is dark.” Jack said from his plane.

“On your signal, Trevor.” Jeremy said, and he stepped out to the edge of the tunnel and drew a borrowed gold flare gun from his jacket.

“We’re at the shore.” Michael said from the speedboat.

Trevor fired the flare straight into the air, a hot golden light over the pitch black base.

“Go, go, go!” Michael yelled. He and Ryan hopped off the boat and clambered up the banks as the yelling of sergeants broke the still silence. Jack tilted the nose of his plane low, and fired his first shot.

“Cover us!” Ryan yelled as he opened fire on a group of assembling soldiers.

“I got you!” Jack assured the pair as they ran onto the runway.

“Target spotted!” Michael yelled over the sound of his own machine gun.

“You see Matt already?” Gavin asked, confused, but they could hear the devious grin in Michael’s answer.

“Nope.” He said with a flash of a smile, and ran for the tank.  



	18. Chapter 18

“On your left!” Jack yelled, and Michael turned to his left and slammed the butt of his gun into the face of an approaching soldier. “Jesus!”

“I’m at the tank.” Michael reported as he began to climb in. A soldier on top of it yelled at him to stop, and pulled his gun. As Michael swore and fumbled for his own, he heard a shot reverberate in his ear. He looked up to find a bloodied stump where the man’s neck once was.

 

* * *

 

“How in the unholy hell do we get Dan here?” Jack questioned, and Gavin smiled fondly. “No way Matt’s not gonna notice a new British soldier on the base.”

“Dan’s flying in from England with a connection in New York.” Steffie said. “He’ll be telling his commanding officers that that’s where he’s been stationed the past few years or so.”

“Hullum’s not in charge of the army, he’s only in with a select few.” Geoff said. “And given our history, I’m fairly fucking certain I know who all of those officers are.”

“So we know who Dan needs to avoid.” Matt figured.

“Once he gets onto the base, all he’ll need to do is blend in.” Lindsay said, then frowned. “But what about Rooster Teeth? Surely they’ll notice him gone.”

“They don’t even know we’re in contact.” Gavin boasted. “We’ve hacked into his neighbor’s wifi and we’re using it to flash some bloke’s hue lights in morse code.”

“Whoa.” Michael whispered to himself, and Jeremy noted that the feeling was mutual. Everyone else looked pleased and proud, and it was nice to see Gavin’s intelligence peek out in such an interesting way.

“Red means we’re in danger, blue means run for it.” Kdin explained. “And green is just pretty.”

“He’s got one check in while he’ll be in the air.” Gavin continued. “Kdin’s just gonna play with our IP address a bit and do it for him.”

“How is he responding to morse code?” Ryan asked, still astonished.

“With his takeout orders.” Kdin answered. “Confirmed that he’d fly over tomorrow with a spicy tuna roll.”

“He’ll be a right prick about it tomorrow.” Gavin sulked. “I’m trying to work with him but it’s not my fault he’s got cravings for Mexican!”

“But this is still Dan we’re talking about.” Ray said pointedly. “Our plan’s secrecy is depending on his stealth right now.”

“We’re fucked then.” Michael said with a snort, and Gavin cast him a dirty look.

“He’s not a complete idiot.” He said. “If my life’s on the line, he’ll come through. Just you wait and see, boy.”

 

* * *

 

“Cheers, Dan!” Michael cackled as he climbed the rest of the way in.

Dan saluted and took off with the pretense of helpfulness. Gavin grinned like a school boy as he mentally cheered on his old friend.

“I think that’s our cue, Gav.” Jeremy said, and he nodded and grew serious once more as he powered up the chopper.

They lifted off the ground and flew towards the base, with only the sounds of yelling and gunfire in their ears. After a moment, they got within eyesight, and could see the reasons for it; Jack was circling around whilst Michael, having just gotten into the tank, began to open fire on the hapless guards. Ryan was taking cover where he could and firing off his pistol whenever the opportunity presented itself.

“Can you all stop shooting me?” He griped as he shot another man between the eyes. “Kinda got my hands full.”

“Are you kidding me, Ryan?” Geoff asked. “You’re not spraying them?”

“Hold on!” He yelled. “Matt, I’m at the fire and rescue station, I need cover!”

“Go around back, there’s some junk and a dumpster.” Matt responded quickly.

“Ryan, you really should spray those chemicals before anyone else gets on the ground.” Caleb warned from inside the limo.

“We’re approaching.” Jeremy said. “Gavin, do you have eyes on Matt’s jet?”

“Give me a minute.” He said, and lifted his sunglasses.

“There’s a nice one in front of the small hangars.” Ray said helpfully. “Black with a gold stripe.”

“That’s it.” Geoff said bitterly. “I helped the fucker pick it out.”

“I’m covered.” Ryan said from behind a dumpster, then set down the two containers he was holding. One was the tank sprayer, which gave a slosh as he set it on the ground, another a tub of bleach. He adjusted the gas mask beneath his usual black skull, unscrewed the cap to the sprayer, then poured the bleach in and screwed the cap on as quickly as possible.

“Careful with that.” Caleb warned.

“Oh, I’ll be real careful melting faces.” Ryan said darkly, then ran out from behind cover and began to spray.

“Ew, please tell me I won’t see any melted guys.” Lindsay said, and Caleb shook his head.

“It’s an irritant, we’re just impairing vision, causing rashes --”

“And mayhem!” Ryan added gleefully. He sprayed an approaching soldier, who fell to his knees and clawed at his eyes. The Vagabond’s mad laugh echoed throughout the base, a depraved sound that had to cause at least one instance of pants-shitting from fear alone.

“They’re scrambling the jets.” Jack said, and looked down at the jets that began to coast down the runway. “Michael, can you keep a few from getting airborne?”

“On it.” Michael said as he turned the tank around. He fired down the runway, and a small fighter jet was blasted and skittered down the asphalt like a leaf on a windy day. But many more rose into the air, a terrible swarm to be dealt with. “Jack, you gotta handle the rest.”

“I’ll keep ‘em off your back, Gav.” Jack said, and rose up higher as the planes began to take chase.

“We’re nearing Matt’s jet.” Gavin said. “Thirty seconds: get ready to push that baby out of here.”

“Deep breaths.” Geoff added. “Patterned breathing, Lil’ J, they teach this shit in Lamaze.”

Jeremy grabbed the wall to hold onto something solid, then pushed the heavy crate towards the door. He looked out the window, but could barely see a thing; Jack’s LAZER zipped by, a boom sounded out, and yet another building received an unpleasant dent. The only light came from a few small flames, most of which were enveloped by smoke anyway.

“Watch it!” Michael barked. “Just because I’m in a tank doesn’t make me fucking immortal down here!”

“I’ve got a situation I’m dealing with here!” Jack yelled his reply. He practically nose-dived to escape a new foe, then pulled up and began to circle the base once more.

“Ten seconds.” Gavin said, and Jeremy swung the door open. At this height, there was a chill in the night air, and as the wind whipped at his face, Jeremy felt the anticipation rise in his chest. It made him a bit dizzy and practically giddy, an odd mix of emotions to have as he leaned against their homemade bomb.

“Drop it!” Gavin yelled above the roar of the wind, and Jeremy pushed against the crate. As soon as it vanished, he dragged the heavy door closed and stepped back to take a deep breath. The impact was likely to set off the bomb by itself, and he braced himself for one hell of a blast.

It fell with a loud crash, right onto the dead center of the plane, which became quite dented, then bounced and landed on the right wing with a grinding sound of crushed metal. Everyone on the ground winced, and nearby soldiers ducked for cover, but no explosion sounded, and no flash of fire erupted against the stark night sky.

“Oh!” Ryan yelled out as the clatter reverberated through his earpiece.

“Shit!” Michael said, then laughed maniacally. “You crushed that bitch!”

“Didn’t blow.” Geoff said. “Ray, are you in position?”

“I’m setting up.” He answered as he placed his pink sniper rifle on its mount. 

“Gavin, circle around.” Jack advised. “Let me clear some space before you go in for a landing.”

“My radar is unintelligible.” Kdin said from the apartment. “There’s at least twenty jets. Gavin, fly out of range before they take you down.”

Jeremy pulled out his rifle as Gavin dipped the chopper to take a hard left. He braced himself yet again and scooted towards the door, ready for a fight. Gavin lifted his own golden pistol and rested it on the edge of the window.

“Try something, you mincy pricks.” Gavin called out the window, and Jeremy smiled.

“Tell me when.” Ray said from up on the hill. He was lying on his stomach in ready position, his finger on the trigger and his scope lined up perfectly.

“When, motherfucker.” Lindsay spoke up immediately. Ray pulled the trigger, and a massive explosion rocked the base. Great orange flames shot up nearly forty feet into the air, and the place glowed like daytime for a moment. On the ground, every soldier nearby toppled, and those who weren’t near could only turn to stare; either at the blast, or the haunting figure of The Vagabond, who stood blankly and was surrounded by a pile of writhing, screaming bodies, those who’d fallen victim to whatever horrendous batch of chemicals he’d happily attacked them with.

“Woohoo!” Jack yelled out.

“Holy shit!” Ray and Lindsay shouted in unison.

“Nice!” Gavin grinned. “Good job, Lil’ J!”

Jeremy smiled, happy he’d managed such a blow.

“Try to escape us, you fucker!” Geoff yelled. “Fly off from this shit!”

“Gavin, hard left!” Jack yelled out suddenly, and Gavin leaned hard on the cyclic stick. They dipped down and to the left, and Jeremy was toppled off his feet. His head collided with a metal bar, and he let out a yelp as Gavin repositioned them with a clearly alarmed expression.

“Alright, Lil’ J?” Gavin asked, and Jeremy moaned from the floor.

“Jack, cover them!” Geoff ordered, concern obvious with the crack in his voice.

“I’m trying!” He yelled. “I’ve got people on me, too! And I need to cover what’s-his-name!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Ryan said gruffly as he continued his tirade against the hapless soldiers around him. “If this is it, it’s been a good ride.”

It wasn’t a pleasant moment to recall that this was in fact a suicide mission. Jack sighed, grit his teeth, and moved away from Ryan to focus on Gavin and Jeremy, whilst Ryan finished the last few ounces of his chemical spray. He dropped the sprayer and pulled out his assault pistol. With a mad grin, he took off into the crowd of maimed soldiers.

“Gavin, I’ll try to guide you out of there.” Kdin said, but Gavin shook his head despite not being seen.

“We need to get on the ground, that’s the whole point!” Gavin protested. “See if it’s safe for Fake Geoff so we can bring in the real deal!”

“Steffie, you want me to get down there?” Ray asked. “It’ll take me some time, but I can be more helpful.”

“No.” She answered firmly. “Stay up there and provide suppressive fire, we can’t take your absence right now.”

“Lil’ J, you need to fight off some of those jets!” Geoff commanded from the limo. “Are you in any condition to do that?”

“Ugh.” Was Jeremy’s eloquent reply. He held his undoubtedly concussed head in his hands as he tried to get a grip on the situation; for a foolish moment, he wondered if all of it was a dream, even meeting the Fakes in the first place. But that would suck a lot worse than dying in a heist.

“Are you still on the bloody floor?” Gavin asked as he turned in his chair to look at him. Jeremy had enough sense to realize that was a bad move on Gavin’s part, but words were just not happening well enough to warn him. “Fuck this, we’re getting out of here before --”

An explosion sounded out as Jack took out another chopper that was headed right for them, and a burst of yellow flames lit up Jeremy’s face and the back of Gavin’s head. He whipped his neck around so fast it hurt, and let out a surprising scream, one of real terror, as a propeller flew right at the windshield. That slight issue was enough to push Jeremy into action, and he did the only thing he could and instinctively ducked his head beneath his arms.

“We’re dead!” He yelled. “We’re fucking dead!”

“Calm down!” Gavin screamed his reply, and Jeremy looked up in time to see the propeller fall away. It didn’t break through the windshield, but it was so deeply cracked that he swore he felt a breeze.

“Jerem!” Matt yelled out as he watched the scene from just outside the tunnel. He and Trevor were practically clinging to each other.

“I can’t see shit, Kdin, help!” Gavin squealed as he shifted the control stick and peered around the mess of cracks that severely limited his vision.

“Jack! Fucking cover them!” Geoff yelled, his voice hoarse. “Jeremy, shoot out the fucking window and try not to fucking die for God’s sake!”

Jeremy scrambled to his feet and pulled open the door deftly. He quickly grabbed the bazooka and hoisted it onto his waist as he looked around. Another chopper neared, and he fired off a shot.

“Okay, left.” Kdin instructed Gavin.

“Why the hell aren’t Trevor and Matt here again?” Ray grumbled as he took out a soldier that got a bit too close to Ryan. Ryan slipped into a hangar and reloaded while he had the cover.

“We’re not shooty people.” Trevor complained, and Lindsay snorted loudly. “Hey! We’re helping too, aren’t --”

“No!” Jack screamed so loud that Steffie grabbed at her earpiece and Ryan visibly jumped. But it quickly became apparent why he’d yelled.

The cargobob Jeremy and Gavin were in lurched violently, and Jeremy was nearly thrown out. He held onto the door for dear life as Gavin screamed. Again, a yellow burst of fire shone through the window as the whole chopper shook.

“Right side, we’re hit!” Gavin yelled as a red light began to flash and an acrid smell began to fill the air.

“You got clipped by another jet, there was nothing I could do!” Jack yelled.

“There’s fucking fire in here!” Jeremy shouted fearfully as he noticed that flames had crept up the opposite wall.

“The guy who clipped you’s coming back, you need to land!” Kdin urged them, and Gavin pushed down hard on the control stick.

“I can’t! Are we smoking?” He screeched, his control on the situation long gone as the chaos took hold of his psyche. “We’re non-functional!”

“Do something!” Geoff was practically hysterical. “Someone do something!”

“You’ve got two closing in!” Kdin said, panicked.

“I don’t know what to do!” Gavin practically bawled, and it hit Jeremy like a punch to the gut. “I think this is it!”

He looked over to his terrified friend for a split second, and didn’t catch his eye, but rather saw his back hunched over as he fumbled with the controls, the panic obvious. He imagined it was difficult being the pilot, in charge of someone else’s life. Especially in a situation where there was nothing he could do. He turned back to the door and lifted the bazooka one last time; they weren’t going down without dragging someone with them.

“Two coming in!” Kdin warned again. “Take evasive maneuvers, Gavin!”

“I’m out of range, I can’t fucking --” Jack began, his throat tight. “Fuck. Take out at least one, Lil’ J. One.”

He understood; they wanted revenge for deaths that hadn’t even happened yet. But there was a small issue, one Jeremy registered with a soft what-in-the-fuck mumbled to himself. One of those planes wasn’t with them, and wasn’t with the army. The little red Dodo looked way out of place, and even more so when four figures leapt from it. And suddenly, everything made sense, and Jeremy let his bazooka fall to the ground.

“We’re jumping!” He yelled as he ran to Gavin and grabbed him around the chest. He essentially dragged the poor confused soul to the door of the plane.

“You don’t have parachutes!” Ray argued. “We agreed they would cramp your style!”

That and the fact that living wasn’t exactly a priority, but too late. Jeremy jumped out of the helicopter with Gavin in tow, who clung to him so tight it hurt. He trusted that Gavin would keep himself firmly attached around his middle, and let go of him. In one swift move, he grabbed at one of the people who had fallen from the Dodo, and firmly caught him by the ankles. Above him, the man’s chute unfurled.

“What the fuck?” Michael gaped, and Jeremy looked up to his savior as he looked down at him.

“Hello, handsome.” He said to Jeremy, who grinned. “You look familiar.”

“So nice to finally meet you, Kovic.” Jeremy replied, and relaxed a bit as they floated down to the tarmac.

“Holy shit, Funhaus saved them!” Trevor cheered, and Jack sighed loudly with relief.

The three of them landed in a tangle of limbs, and quickly separated as the other three unhooked their parachutes.

“Thank God.” Geoff sat back in his chair, and Lindsay, Caleb and Steffie ignored the tears he brushed from his eyes.

“Elyse, Bruce, Peake.” Adam said with a wry grin. “I’d like to introduce you to ‘Geoff Ramsey,’ the greatest gang leader in Los Santos.”

“I believe we’ve been acquainted.” Peake said kindly. “I’m so glad to see that you’re okay, I was so, so worried about you.”

Lucky for them, Ryan wasn’t close enough to hear that and scream in terror. Jeremy nodded.

“Ask them what they’re doing here.” Steffie said. “We have to be certain they won’t hurt you.”

“Thank you for saving us.” Gavin spoke up, and Elyse looked him up and down.

“Any time, skinny.” She said. “Can we get a lift when this is all over, though? Kind of kamikazed our ride.”

“We’re on a suicide mission, so we’ll probably be dead. But if not, sure.” Gavin said, and she nodded politely and gave Bruce a ‘what a fucking weirdo’ look.

“Seriously, guys, make sure they won’t murder you.” Geoff said stiffly. “If you get offed by Funhaus because you were making small talk we’re just gonna act like you got got by the plane.”

“Okay, okay.” Gavin said with a roll of his eyes. “Are you guys here to murder us? Geoff’s asking.”

“Smooth.” Jeremy scoffed as he pulled out his Micro SMG (they were still in the middle of attacking a military base, after all, the small talk really needed to be armed). “Way to beat around the bush.”

“Are you kidding?” Bruce asked, wide-eyed. “We’re here to help you. We saw you walking out of Ammu-Nation and stole a plane to follow you over.”

“Big move like this has to be something Rooster Teeth related.” Adam said. “What are you guys doing, anyway?”

“Heads up!” Michael said, and Elyse took a half-step to the side as a fireball flew past her and took out a crowd of soldiers that seemed to have been prepping to jump them.

“Not the best time to talk.” Jeremy said pointedly.

“Just tell us how we can help.” Peake said earnestly. “In a stressful situation there’s nothing more important than setting up goals and getting support.”

“Augh!” Ryan cried out in terror somewhere in the distance.

“Kill every soldier you can find.” Gavin summarized, gold gun in hand. “Not the British one.”

“Dark hair, dopey face, team-killer.” Ryan called out helpfully in the distance. “Kinda hard to miss.”

“Got it.” Elyse said and ran off immediately, while the rest of them took off in separate directions.

“I’ve never seen someone stab a guy to death with a broken bottle so quickly.” Ray noted from the hill. “That girl is terrifying.”

“What a badass.” Lindsay said with a voice full of admiration. But Jeremy had other things to focus on.

“Matt!” He yelled out as he stepped into a clearing -- that is, a space where dead bodies outnumbered living, fighting soldiers. “Matt Hullum!”

Someone screamed in Jeremy’s earpiece, and he turned around in alarm. In the middle of the flames and bits of twisted metal, bodies were dropping like flies, men shrieking and openly weeping, with one stood in the middle. Armed with only a hatchet, Matt Peake decapitated yet another man without hesitation; quietly, swiftly, and with a cold cruelty with his eyes. In the distance, Ryan cowered as he attempted to control his screams.

“My God.” Jeremy whispered. “Matt Peake is a nightmare.”

“Peake.” Gavin whispered in reverie.

“Focus, please.” Steffie hummed, and Jeremy shook himself.

“Matt fucking Hullum, we need to talk!” He yelled. “Come out here! Now!”

He paused with an air of patience. He needed to seem authoritative, controlled, as threatening as Geoff Ramsey himself. After a long minute of nothing but distant gunshots and yelling, he spoke again.

“I know you have an intercom or something.” ‘Geoff’ said. Raspy voice, commanding presence, and he stood tall as he was able. The performance of a lifetime. “So fucking speak to me. Negotiate. Peace talks, motherfucker.”

“No.” A voice sounded out over a loudspeaker, and Geoff laughed bitterly from the car. The word was cheeky in its own right, and Jeremy suspected that there was a sour bit of playfulness going on between old friends. Friendship, however, was weakness in Matt’s eyes. That’s why they were all fighting for their lives in that godforsaken base.

“We’re not here to hurt you.” Jeremy said honestly. “This is a heist and a meeting with you is the prize. Let’s all stand down, and you can meet us out here and talk things through.”

There was a tense silence. Adam gave Gavin an anxious look, but nodded respectfully. If the Fakes were trying to return to Rooster Teeth, Funhaus would do the same. Probably without that die trying bit.

“Geoff.” Matt sighed. “If you think I’m going to exchange safety for running out onto a burned and bloody airstrip, you’ve got less understanding of this situation than I thought.”

That didn’t sound good. Jeremy wanted more than anything to turn around and get a reassuring glance from Gavin or a Funhaus member, but Geoff would never, so he kept stock still no matter how much it pained him. In the distance, the real Geoff was harrowed, and Lindsay rubbed his arm.

“I know putting friendship first is a foolish move, and yet you want me to do it anyway.” Matt said. “Fine. Put it first. There’s an old friend coming to see you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Lindsay asked, and Jeremy tightened the grip on his gun.

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound great.” Trevor said ominously.

To Jeremy’s left, a door swung open, and goddamn was Trevor proven right quickly. It was indeed an old friend, and it was bad news for all of them.

“No.” Jeremy paled. “Not her.”

And Barbara Dunkelman stepped out of the shadows.


	19. Chapter 19

Barbara stared at him, just distant enough to be fooled into thinking he was the real Geoff, and slowly raised her gun.

“Jerem, run.” Matt warned. He couldn’t see what was going on from the tunnel, but he knew her reputation and was smart enough to be scared shitless for his friend.

“Geoff wouldn’t --” Jeremy began quietly, but was quickly cut off.

“Hell yeah I would!” Geoff said. “Run!”

Jeremy did as he was told and ran off as fast as he could to rejoin the group. Barb followed slowly, took her time with every menacing step. When Jeremy got to Gavin, he saw a heartbroken man.

“I’m not hurting her.” He spoke up immediately, his face ashen, and Jeremy nodded.

“That’s okay. We didn’t anticipate Barbara, but we’re prepared for Hullum’s rejection.” Steffie said. “Advance to phase two.”

“I’ve got incoming.” Kdin said. “Jack, who do you spot coming in from the south?”

“It’s a Velum, nothing military.” He reported. “The rest of Funhaus, I reckon.”

“Cover them so they can land.” Steffie said, but landing would be pretty damn difficult even with Jack’s protection. The place was littered with bodies, the ground slick with blood, yet soldiers just kept coming. It was one hell of a skirmish, still not complete.

“Much appreciated.” A new voice said in their earpieces. “You guys don’t mind a bit of hacking into the comms, do you?”

“Not at all, Lawrence.” Gavin said to give respect to his fellow tech geek. “Everyone, meet Lawrence Sonntag.”

“And James Willems.” Another voice spoke up. “How ya doing down there, darling?”

“Peachy keen, sweetheart.” Elyse answered serenely as she gutted a soldier.

“Phase two, guys.” Steffie reminded them, and Jeremy nodded.

“You don’t want to surrender, Hullum? You want us to fight for ourselves, for our freedom?” Jeremy yelled, then cast a dark look around. “Very well.”

He opened fire into the crowd, and with the help of the newcomers, their attack strengthened. It was less of a death wish and more like two armies at war, firmly matched in a battle of rage against sheer numbers. Next to Jeremy, a soldier fell to his knees with a groan, and was shot again directly between the eyes.

“I got you, Lil’ J.” Ray said, and Jeremy grinned. They could take these fuckers. Well, maybe if Barb wasn’t approaching with murder-eyes.

“Hey Funhaus, any of you good at hand to hand combat?” Jeremy asked hopefully.

“Who am I killing?” Elyse responded immediately, and Jeremy sucked in his breath.

“Don’t kill Barb. Just distract her, knock her out if you have to.” He said, and stepped aside for her to approach the other blonde.

“What a damn showdown this is gonna be.” Ray mumbled appreciatively in the distance.

“Kick her ass, baby.” James said encouragingly as he began his descent.

“I got yo flower.” Gavin mumbled as Elyse stepped up to Barb.

“Dunkelman. Been a long time since I impersonated you.” Elyse smirked. Barbara stared at her coldly. “It was fun, we should switch up some time. When you’re done undermining your friends for the sake of your job, of course.”

Oh shit, that was not the best thing to say, and Barbara seemed _pissed_. If looks could kill, this suicide mission would already be over. She actually shook with rage as she gave a rebuttal.

“I assume it’s been a long time since you got your shit kicked in, too.” Barb said, then set her gun on the ground and held up her fists. “Let’s change that.”

Elyse pounced and tackled Barb, who swiftly punched her in the gut, but it was too close to be really effective. The pair crumpled to the ground, but Barb flipped Elyse over and punched her hard in the face. As she raised her fist to strike again, Elyse spat the blood from her split lip right into Barbara’s face, and she took advantage of Barb’s offended gasp to deliver a blow to the throat.

“Oh!” Michael yelled appreciatively.

“Phase two, moron!” Geoff berated him. “You’re not here to enjoy the show, now get moving!”

“Alright, alright.” Michael groaned, and with newfound purpose, drove towards the largest hangar.

The pair fell side by side, and Barb scrambled to her feet as Elyse grabbed at her ankles in attempt to pull her back down. She stomped quickly on her fingers, which elicited a squeak of pain, then freed herself and spun around, only to immediately kick Elyse in the stomach. Elyse yelled in anger and frustration, then shot her hand up and grabbed at Barb rather strategically -- right in the crotch.

Barb squirmed and took a massive step back, and Elyse stood quickly and attempted to punch her once, but was swiftly blocked, and again, but this time landed a blow to her chest. Barb sucked in a breath, but quickly fired back with her own punches; two right-hooks to the eye and cheek, and Elyse’s vision had to be impaired now by all the blood dripping down her face.

“It’s worse than it looks.” Someone said, and Jeremy turned to see Kovic reassuring Bruce, who nodded uncertainly.

An insanely loud crash sounded out, which distracted everyone enough to pause and look over to the source of the commotion. In the largest hangar, a bit hard to see in the distance, Michael was taking care of any remaining planes, including some cargobobs and two very large and soon to be very burnt Titans.

“Maybe you should leave a Titan so we can escape.” Elyse said, then winced as they all heard a large crunch. “Okay, never mind.”

“How do you guys plan on getting out of here?” Barb asked, her first words since the last time they saw her with Ray. Elyse shrugged, and Barb frowned. “Geoff’s methodical, why didn’t he plan an escape?”

“It’s a suicide mission, go back to punching each other!” James yelled in the distance. “Take her out, babe!”

An unexpected flash of hurt appeared on Barb’s face, maybe with the knowledge that people she loved were there to die, but she steeled herself and quickly punched Elyse before she could strike, then kicked her in the shin. She dropped to her knees, and Barb reached into her pocket and pulled out a knife. But as soon as she held it in the air, a shot fired, and it flew out of her hand and landed feet away from her. She yelled in pain, with a bit of blood on her fingers, but not enough to be more than a graze.

“Gotcha, El.” Ray grinned, and Barb looked in his direction in annoyance.

She reached down and pulled a second blade from her shoe, and in a heartbeat, another gunshot could be heard, but she dropped the knife and dove for her gun instead. Before anyone could do a thing, she looked up, saw Ray’s scope glint in the moonlight, and fired.

Ray’s scream pained everyone through the earpiece, and he toppled downwards off the hill. Everyone paused in abject horror, and Barb noticed instantly and didn’t make another move.

“Ray!” Ryan screamed, and Barbara had a mix of shock and hurt on her face -- she hadn’t realized just who she’d shot. “Ray! Say something!”

A chill ran down Jeremy’s spine as Ray fell silent. He looked over to Barb, whose expression emanated incredible pain and a newfound understanding of the situation. She previously must have either not realized the severity of all this or gone into denial, but now it was real and she may have just murdered her old friend, and that wasn’t something Jeremy wished on any enemy.

“I’m coming!” Caleb rushed out of the car as Ray landed on the bottom of the hill. “Hang in there, buddy!”

“Oh, fuck! The tank’s on fire!” Michael yelled suddenly. “The engine’s about to burn out!”

“Get out of there, now!” Matt responded urgently. “You could get trapped in a blaze!”

“I need to get to the other Titan!” He replied, his brow covered in sweat. “I’m taking out this whole damn hangar no matter what!”

There was a sound of shattered glass, and Jeremy whipped around to find Barbara on the ground, the remains of a bottle matted in her hair. James stood over her with an expression full of rage, but softened as his wife pulled him into a hug. At least that was dealt with, though it only left Jeremy with a sour taste in his mouth.

“Crowd’s thinning, Geoff.” Ryan said. “Now’s the time to get in the game.”

“I’m gonna wait on Michael.” Geoff responded. “How ya doing, bud?”

“Not great, let’s see if I live.” Michael said with a groan. The tank somehow puttered on, and he crawled closer to his goal of blowing up the entire hangar. 

“Honey.” Lindsay began, her voice laced with concern, but a breathless Caleb cut in.

“He’s okay!” He yelled, and everyone groaned with relief. “Ray’s fine, he just got knocked out. Wake up buddy, I gotta patch your shoulder.”

Jeremy noted the way Ryan looked down to Barb, and he knew in an instant that all he wanted to do was assure her that she hadn’t done too much damage. But if he woke her up, she’d just attack him, and he’d be forced to do something worse than just knocking her out. Still, Ray was alive; the suicide mission hadn’t bested them yet.

“Shit, they called for back-up.” Trevor said, and he and Matt rushed out of the tunnel and hid in a nearby bush. An endless procession of cops zipped by as the pair looked on in horror. “Steffie, there’s at least two hundred cops coming.”

“Shit.” Geoff said, and Steffie groaned. “I’m supposed to go in when it’s safe. When the hell will that be?”

“I’ve got choppers inbound.” Kdin said. “Jack --”

“On it.” He said, but the exhaustion in his voice was clear.

They were all tired. It was getting late and the world was nothing but smoke and fire, and no matter how many soldiers they killed, more seemed to come out of nowhere. Funhaus was helping, but how long could they really keep this up?

“You guys miss me?” Ray asked in a sardonic mumble, and Jeremy remembered again why they were there. For each other, for their freedom, for Ray’s safety. That’s what he was ready to die for.

“You’re gonna be fine.” Caleb assured him. “But you’re out of the fight.”

“Eff that.” He argued. “Give me some pills, I’m not done yet.”

“You’ve been shot, Ray.” Caleb said calmly. “You fell a few feet, you may be concussed. Take it easy.”

At this, Ray shook his head firmly.

“We’re all here to fight or die, don’t keep me away from that!” He said, frustrated. “Pump me full of meds so I can get out there!”

“No, you need --”

“Ray.” Steffie began patiently, but a shuffling sound over the earpiece made her pause. “What’s going on?”

“Fight or die, bitch!” Ray yelled out and effectively drowned out Caleb’s protests as he escaped the medic’s grasp. Jeremy paused his fighting to turn and see Ray rush to the chainlink fence and start climbing. When he reached the top, he was only tangled in the barbed wire for a moment before getting inside and falling once more. But Jeremy didn’t have time to be concerned before he bounded up again, and rushed to join them in the battlefield. 

“Ray, you beautiful dipshit.” Geoff said fondly as the noise of sirens overpowered his voice. “The cops are here, you guys do what you can.”

“The tank’s dead.” Michael interrupted. “I’m gonna take this building out manually.”

“Be careful.” Lindsay said, and from her place in the car, she saw the cops begin to pour into the base. “Fuck it. Hit the gas, Steff, I’m ready.”

“Patience.” Steffie said, and Lindsay crossed her arms.

“My husband is blowing up a building right now and I’m just sitting here.” She glowered. “I’m done with this plan, let’s go.”

“You’re not the boss yet.” Geoff warned. “Wait for Jeremy.”

On the ground, it was the second big wave of battle. Cops flooded in with their lights flashing, and the place was a sea of noise; sirens, screaming, gunshots, commands from the gangs and officers alike. Jeremy had been pretty consumed in both the battle and the knowledge that he needed to take his next step so Geoff and Lindsay could join them, until he turned around and in the middle of it all, saw Gavin.

He was desperately trying to drag Barbara’s unconscious form out of harm’s way, but he kept having to pause and open fire on every officer and soldier who drew near. Even in the midst of all that horror, he couldn’t endanger his friend’s life, and that was the reason Jeremy ran towards them. He pushed a few people out of the way, and Gavin looked at him warily, but sighed as Jeremy used the strength Gavin didn’t have to lift her.

“Protect us.” He said, and Gavin nodded firmly.

“Geoff!” Someone in the crowd yelled, and Jeremy looked around to see an unfamiliar face.

“Aaron Marquis.” Gavin informed him, and looked down at Barb with worry. Jeremy could see the fear and anger clear on the officer’s expression, so he answered the unspoken question quickly.

“She’s just unconscious.” He called out in Geoff’s rasping voice. “I’m moving her out of here!”

There was a tense sort of relief on his face, and he nodded as he spoke into the radio, maybe to inform Chief Sorola of her safety or to warn them not to fire. At any rate, Jeremy rushed her out of there with Gavin stood watch, and disappeared behind the violence in the alley between the barracks.

Michael jumped from the tank and out into the hangar, which was filled with a choking smoke that left it nearly impossible to see. He looked around frantically for something to blow up, completely improvising, and finally spotted a wall lined up with propane tanks. He rushed over to check the fuel levels, but they were all empty; he’d have to fill them with gasoline in a room full of flames.

“Holy fuck is this dangerous.” He mumbled to himself, but went to a nearby work table and grabbed a fuel syphon. He then hauled a ladder up to the one surviving Titan, and clambered up it to collect the fuel. He was sweating buckets and breathing in some really unpleasant fumes, which explained his exhaustion and severe headache. He swore to himself as he filled up the tanks, six in all, and placed them intermittently throughout the large hangar. But despite all the flaming remains of aircraft, the make-shift bombs wouldn’t go off without some real heat beneath them. He grabbed a tub of antifreeze and hauled it throughout the hangar, and took all his strength to tip it over and cause a rush of heat and fire around each propane tank.

“The propane tanks are filled to the brim and getting really fucking hot.” He said as he dropped the now empty tub and nursed a burn on his arm. “Pressure’s gonna make ‘em blow and take this place down like a motherfucker, I’m gonna get out while I still can.”

“I’m hidden. Steffie, hit the gas.” Jeremy said as he laid Barbara down on the ground.

“Coming in for landing.” Jack said as he began his descent. It was a necessary step, but it was unnerving to know they’d lost their air support.

“Finally!” Lindsay yelled, and Steffie slammed on the pedal so hard she was pushed backwards by the velocity.

The limo flew down the hill it was rested upon and went towards the fence at an alarming speed. Everyone inside flinched instinctively, but they broke through the fence and dragged a part of it with them until they pulled up to the hangar. Michael ran out as fast as his legs could carry him, and just as he escaped, the first tank blew, then two more, then the other three. The explosion was magnificent, just several massive balls of orange flames, with thick black smoke billowing and somehow making the world around them even darker.

Lindsay, Geoff and Steffie stepped out of the limo and surveyed the damage with varying looks of ‘huh, nice.’ With the one flash of light, the soldiers and officers turned to them and spotted Geoff.

“That’s the leader, get him!” Yelled one, and Ray and Gavin rushed over to defend him.

“We got this!” Bruce yelled, and he, James and Kovic stood in front of Geoff as though they were body guards.

“Funhaus, you and I are gonna take down as many of these fuckers as possible while I make my way to Lil’ J.” Geoff directed them. “My gang, stay here and do the same.”

Geoff ran off with Steffie and most of Funhaus in tow, whilst Caleb remained and pulled out some antibiotic ointment and walked over to Michael.

“Bask in the glow of your explosion.” Ryan said, separate from the rest of the pack as he took down soldier after soldier.

“Yeah, excellent work, Michael! You really have a gift.” Peake beamed. Ryan spotted him in the crowd; blood dripped down his face, he had brains and tissue matted in his hair, and he bore a wide smile as he congenially congratulated them on their murders. Ryan could barely hold back his screams.

“Hey, honey.” Lindsay casually greeted her husband as he got in front of the smashed up limo. “Ready to murder a fuckton of people?”

“Hell yeah I am!” He said as Caleb pulled away, and pulled out his gun and attempted to fire. “Hell no I’m not! My gun’s jammed!”

“Shite.” Gavin groaned as he shot his last bullet. “It’s just you and Ray, Lindsay.”

“Uh, not the best odds against a hundred cops.” Ray said pointedly. “Even with Lindsay’s badassery helping out.”

The four looked between each other solemnly, with Caleb terrified but accepting. He knew what he was getting into, they all did, and they were all together, and that was most important.

“Blaze of glory.” Lindsay said, steely-eyed, and raised her gun. Beside her, Michael held his as though to hit people with the butt of it. Gavin did the same, and Ray prepared to fire. Every officer around them noticed that two of them were unarmed, and raised their own guns.

“I love you guys.” Michael mumbled, and looked at Lindsay. She gave him a soft, sad smile, and he nodded. Time to go.

“Die, pigs!” A woman yelled, but it wasn’t Lindsay. Out of nowhere, a stranger dropped in front of them, as though perched on top of the hangar behind them, rolled a somersault, and brandished two pistols as she stood. She opened fire immediately, and Lindsay and Ray could only shrug and fire as well.

“Who is that?” Gavin asked in awe above the screaming of the police, and all of them could practically hear the heart-eyes in his voice.

She looked over her shoulder, grinned, and tossed him a clip of ammunition.

“Your friendly neighborhood merc. Tina Dayton, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She tossed Michael an AKG and a bullet belt. “Big fan.”

“Wha -- how -- who --” Caleb managed, and Tina laughed as she continued her tirade.

“I’ve been really interested in all this. Tried to follow along, track you guys and the insane moves you’ve been making.” She said. “Giving Gavin to Joel and then somehow getting him out of there? It’s the hottest gossip of the paid-to-murder circle right now.”

“That’s not exactly --” Lindsay began, then shook her head. “Fuck it. Thank you for helping us.”

“I helped!” Ray said excitedly. “I helped too!”

“The great Ray Narvaez.” She blushed. “I’ve heard so much about you; I’m a really, really big fan.”

Gavin squeaked uncontrollably in the background, and the group plowed on.

“Jeremy!” Geoff called out as he got in the alley, and Funhaus took off to murder a buttload of people for the fun of it. “Got your costume ready? Red beard, massive fat suit?”

“I’ve landed and I’m on my way.” Jack said with a snort as he sneaked behind the barracks. “Speaking of me.”

“Get in there and find him, and if you survive, haul his ass out here.” Geoff said as Jack approached. “We need to talk.”

“There’s so many guys out here, you should assume the base is mostly empty.” Kovic supplied. “But Hullum’s no doubt got his own security detail in there, and they’ll be hell to deal with.”

“We’ll take out as many as we can, and call for backup and give a location when all else fails.” Jeremy nodded, and Geoff looked to him approvingly.

“I know you’ll make me proud, Lil’ J.” He said, then turned to Jack. “You’re a fat fuck, my old friend.”

“Aw.” Jack squeezed him into a hug, and Geoff patted him firmly on the back. “Let’s do this.”

Jeremy and Jack departed, and ran along the side of the barracks and up to the bunker. They approached a metal door, and when they looked into the distance, saw everyone at war. Funhaus as a team fighting off the soldiers, half of their own crew with the mysterious new merc slaying cops, Ryan waiting calmly in the shadows and taking men out as they approached, Peake and Elyse in the thick of it all slaughtering everyone they could get their hands on.

That was their family, risking their lives for an insane cause. And their job, there at that door, was to end all of this at last. To get peace from Matt or death at his hand, to bring their crew home.

“I’m applying the sticky bombs.” Jack said as he placed two charges on the door.

“Good luck in there, Jeremy.” Matt said as he watched the carnage in the distance. Jeremy registered the words, but couldn’t muster a reply; he knew what the odds were.

“Blow the door.” Jeremy plowed on, and Jack nodded.

“Three, two, one.”


	20. Chapter 20

With a bang and a screech of medal, the door shook and hung from its hinges. Jack looked to Jeremy, who nodded, and kicked the door down. It was dark inside, what with the lack of power, and Jack stepped in blind as Jeremy followed.

They walked down a narrow hallway in silence, careful not to speak incase someone overheard them. In here, the sound of the war outside was diminished, and there was only a cold silence. Jeremy was suddenly more aware of the soot and blood on his face, and though the knife Jack held didn’t shake, it was gripped so firmly the man’s hand was cramping.

In the distance, another metal door slammed open, and the pair looked at each other in alarm. Footsteps could be heard, and Jack pulled Lil’ J down a hall and held him close against the wall as someone approached. Jeremy lifted out his pistol, and Jack took a deep breath.

“. . . Well Matt said enough is enough, that’s why he’s sending us out there.” Burnie’s familiar voice echoed throughout the hall as he drew near. “So suck it up and fucking talk them out of it or we’ll be forced to shoot them down.”

“I’ll do what I can, but you had to know it would end like this.” The soft voice of Jon Risinger replied. “I don’t want to hurt them either, but there’s no way they don’t understand that if they’re here, they’re here to kill.”

The door opened again, and the pair paused. Jack and Jeremy exchanged a cautious glance, pain in both their eyes -- Burnie and Jon were only doing what they had to do. They chose who they were loyal to, and now they had to honor it. They certainly didn’t want to murder their friends and family, but that was just what this game called for.

“Wait up, I’ve got the secret weapon.” Joel’s voice called out, and Jeremy glowered. Joel had an unfortunately heavy hand in all this business, and though Jeremy had seen the sadness in his eyes when he let Ray go, the rest of it wasn’t easy to forget.

“Not sure I like being called a weapon.” A new voice said, and Jack’s hands flew to his mouth.

“Cool it, we’ve got worse shit going on.” Burnie said, and he and Jon began to walk once more. They passed by Jack and Jeremy, who remained hidden in the shadows, scared shitless but luckily undetected.

“She just woke up, we’ll meet you over there.” Gus Sorola’s gruff voice crackled over someone’s radio.

“She okay?” The new voice asked as Joel walked by, and thankfully also missed Jack and Jeremy.

“Physically. She shot Ray.” Gus paused, and someone stepped into view, then stopped walking, the man who just received the bad news. “We don’t know if he’s alright. I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

“Andy.” Joel’s silhouette stepped into view, and Jeremy stiffened. “We gotta go. Let’s end this so we can find him.”

“If he’s --” Andy began, and Joel shook his head.

“Don’t make me think about that right now. This has been too much already and it’s only gonna get worse.” He looked to the ground in Jeremy and Jack’s direction, and Jeremy moved his finger onto the trigger. “Let me ponder the damages later with a hard drink.”

Andy let out a sad little laugh with nothing but grief behind it, and the pair walked away. Jack and Jeremy remained in silence for a long few minutes before either could speak again.

“If they leave out that door, they’ll know we’re in the base.” Jack whispered, and Jeremy nodded stiffly.

“Let’s hope they just think it was damaged in the fight.” He said, and stepped away from the other man. “Or they’re too focused on their supposed peace mission to deal with us.”

“Incoming, Steffie. Burnie and Joel are here.” Jack whispered for the benefit of his earpiece, and decided not to mention Andy’s presence. Outside, Steffie groaned.

“Geoff, you’re needed.” She said from her hiding spot behind the barracks. She wasn’t really a physical fighter, but she was the organizer and the problem-fixer so she was stuck in the shit-show now. “Front and center.”

“On my way.” Geoff said, and punched a nearby officer square in the jaw. “Anyone wanna help me murder my way to the main building? I’ve got some old friends to meet up with.”

“So do I.” Ray said solemnly, and they all knew who he was thinking of. Tina was the only one outside of the loop, but she gave Ray a firm nod and fell in place next to him as they began to move forward.

“Cops look like they’re falling back.” Kovic noted. “I think they’re gonna cover Sorola and Marquis. Anyone who’s not on their payroll is an easy target.”

“Then let’s all kill who we need to kill and haul ass over there.” Ryan said, and they worked even harder. They ignored the cops who fell back, part of Sorola’s team, and focused on the sitting ducks remaining. The amount of cops and soldiers had really dwindled down with Funhaus’ and Tina’s help, despite the amount of helicopters and fighter jets that still rained fire over their heads.

Lindsay and Michael moved forward as Caleb trailed cautiously behind them, and they met with Ryan as the last of his enemies fell. Peake dripped with blood and gore, but greeted them with a friendly wave as they all met up with the rest of Funhaus and Geoff. Even Ray, Tina and Gavin got in on the action as Elyse approached. 

The night was at its darkest, and the occasional batch of flames couldn’t produce enough light to shine through the billowing smoke. It would take a miracle to be able to see Burnie coming; all Geoff could make out was the line of officers in the distance, who were staring at them, but not making any moves. Everyone knew this was the final cease-fire. If something else happened and guns came out, the crew wouldn’t get a second chance like this.

“Weapons at the ready.” Geoff ordered. “We can’t see them coming, let’s not get any nasty surprises.”

“That’s not what we’re here for.” Burnie called out through the smoke as he stepped forward. “But yeah, you might get a few.”

 

* * *

 

Jack and Jeremy continued on through the hall in silence. The path was at times narrow or confusing, but they trudged on with a weathered determination until Jack suddenly threw out his arm in front of Jeremy and caught him in the chest. The pair looked between each other, and Jack pointed into the distance. There was the smallest hint of light down the hall and around the bend, comparable to moonlight in its lack of strength, but they’d seen the floor plans Matt had got for them, and if they were in the spot they thought there were, there shouldn’t have been any windows in sight.

They edged forward carefully, mindful of every step, until Jack paused them once more and motioned to his ears. Jeremy picked up on something too, a faint hum. He mouthed the word ‘generator’ to Jack, who nodded. They’d found Matt Hullum.

Jack stepped forward, a hand on his blade, and peeked around the corner, then motioned for Jeremy to come closer. It was just one hallway left, and then they’d be right in front of Hullum. Jeremy steeled his nerves and pressed onward.

They reached the end of the hall, and heard something echo in both their earpieces and the other room:

“Weapons at the ready. We can’t see them coming, let’s not get any nasty surprises.”

Jack poked his head in for just a second, stepped back, and motioned for Jeremy to do the same. He peered in to see Matt’s back towards them, a handful of guards, and a few security monitors that ran off the generator, not that they showed all that much.

“That’s not what we’re here for.” Burnie said, and Jeremy saw his silhouette on one of the screens, thankfully without a weapon visibly drawn. “But yeah, you might get a few.”

He turned to Jack, and they shared a look. They would wait this out, see where it goes, and grab Hullum and announce him as a hostage so they could haul his ass out there and get some real peace talks going. Peace talks or a rather violent alternative.

“Burnie.” Geoff greeted, his tone notably miserable but strong nonetheless. “I see that Matt sent his second in command instead of growing a set and addressing us directly, as per usual.”

“He didn’t just send Burns.” Gus called out as he stepped over, Aaron and Barbara in tow. She gave Ray’s thin figure a once over as nervous worry came off her in bounds.

“You okay?” She asked, and Ray gave a half shrug, the other shoulder unavailable.

“Not now, Barb.” Joel said, an echo of his earlier conversation with Andy, and the pair joined the group.

“Andy?” Lindsay gaped, a terror in her eyes. None of them had expected to see him there, even though they’d already known that he was a traitor. It was another stab in the gut, but after so many, the pain had gone dull.

“Asshole.” Michael snapped unexpectedly. “We’re here to die and you just -- you just what, fucker, come here for the fun of it? Gonna laugh in our faces just like your buddy Joel here did?”

Andy shifted uncomfortably, his expression hurt, but remained silent, and Michael rambled on.

“You knew the truth and you kept it to yourself! Because it was convenient! Because some power-hungry bastard convinced you that was the right move!” Michael yelled. “Fuck you, Andy, you were our friend.”

“He still is.” Jon cut in. “He’s a reminder of what you’re missing.”

Gus coughed and it sounded suspiciously like the word ‘gay’. Burnie shoved him, and Geoff wore a forlorn expression.

“You might consider us your enemies, but you know we’re still your friends. So end this.” Jon said. “End this fighting, this violence. You know you have no reason to continue.”

“No reason?” Geoff barked out. “No reason my ass, you guys took away any autonomy I had in this company. You lied to me for your own benefit. You used the gang I spent years working on to your own advantage. You betrayed your family for looks and cash!”

“Yes. We did.” Burnie said in his specifically slow, calm voice. “And that sucks, okay? That was a very bad thing.”

“But we’re willing to let bygones be bygones, and doesn’t that sound a hell of a lot better than war?” Gus said reasonably. “Michael said you came here to die. So would you really prefer a suicide mission to leaving the past behind?”

“Not to shock you, but I would rather have my family be safe than dead.” Geoff replied evenly. “No one said there was no chance for forgiveness. But we came here to talk to Matt, and as long as he hides in the shadows, I’m gonna think that our safety isn’t a possibility or a priority. So go get him.”

Matt remained still in front of the monitors. Whatever he was thinking, he didn’t voice it, and he made no motion to go outside; he really was a complete enigma, even at face value.

“Geoff.” Joel began, and Geoff curled his fists. “He sent out Jon to negotiate peace. He sent out Andy to remind you what we all mean to you. Work with us and we can help you.”

“You know what?” Ryan spoke up daringly. “For all this ‘remember that we’re family’ stuff, you guys are having one hell of a time doing the same.”

Burnie looked surprised that he’d spoke, but quickly hid it with a terse look.

“Ryan, you know that this is business. You know that Matt has always felt that friendship should never get in the way of that.” Burnie said, and Ryan stepped forward.

“Yeah, I know. I also know that if we get too ‘in the way of that’ you fuckers are going to execute us.” He said, and Geoff raised a hand as though to silence him.

“He’s right. You’ll kill us because it’s your job, then you’ll mourn, then you’ll rationalize it, and so on.” Geoff said. “Burnie, you are my brother and I love you.”

Gus made a coughing sound that sounded like the word ‘gay’ again, and Geoff glared, but didn’t say anything against it.

“But I’ve been saying this for ages, and I will continue to say it until all of this is over: we are here to make peace or die.” Geoff said firmly. “So if you can help with the peace bit, well, that would be appreciated.”

They couldn’t see him tear up in the darkness, but could hear the crack in his voice as it grew just a bit more rasping than usual.

“And if you can’t . . . just kill us quickly. Just don’t forget what we mean to you.” Geoff said earnestly. “If this is how I have to go out, I’m devastated by everything that lead us here, but if it had to be another man’s bullet, I would be honored if it were one of yours.”

Burnie stared at him, obviously heartbroken, while Joel looked down at his shoes. Matt leaned over to a security guard and said something, and he and another guard disappeared out a neighboring door.

“Just to be clear, our gang is chill with not dying.” Bruce said, and James nodded supportively. “But yeah, we want peace too.”

“I’m so fucking sorry, Ray.” Barb cut in unexpectedly. “I didn’t know it was you, I feel so fucking guilty.”

“No worries. YOLO, right?” Ray said, and behind him, Caleb stifled a giggle. “Just kidding, it sucks. But I get that you didn’t mean it.”

Joel shifted guiltily, his thoughts on the day he had Ray dragged out of his dungeon, kicking and screaming the whole way, but he said nothing, and didn’t glance up to match eyes with Ray’s searing look.

“I’m sorry too.” Andy rushed out. “Michael, Lindsay, Gav. None of this was fair to you -- I knew you were at a disadvantage and I did jack-shit about it. I cheated all of you.”

Gavin opened his mouth to say something, maybe accept the apology, but Jon jumped in before anyone could make a sound.

“Okay, we’re all on the same page. Common ground. So Geoff, Kovic, why don’t you tell your guys to drop their weapons and we can all settle down.” Jon said cautiously. “We can make peace.”

“Get Matt.” Geoff said firmly, and everyone on his side tensed back up. “Peace or die.”

Matt didn’t make a move. Jeremy was dying to know what he thought of all this. Burnie waited a moment, as though this time he really expected Matt to show.

“He won’t come.” Aaron said matter-of-factly after a moment of silence. “Geoff, just --”

“Peace or die.” Steffie interrupted. They didn’t know who she was, but balked at her nerve, and Geoff lifted his gun in agreement.

In a heartbeat, everyone’s weapon was at the ready. Burnie pointed his right at Geoff’s chest, a cruel reminder of the day they’d found out that even he was working against them. Funhaus took careful aim, Peake held up his hatchet threateningly, and Tina and the crew held their own guns, all in silent agreement of what this meant. If they died in that moment, it would be an assisted suicide by the hand of their greatest allies.

Something clattered, and everyone jumped and revealed their nerves, only to rest their eyes on Barbara, and the gun that she’d dropped to the ground.

“I won’t do this.” She said softly. “I won’t hurt my family.”

“They’re here to hurt us.” Joel said, but there was no conviction in his words. “We don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, we do.” Andy said, and dropped his own gun. “Peace or die.”

“Andy.” Lindsay said with a watery grin. “Thank you.”

“Barb --” Aaron began, and she gave him a sharp look. “Fuck, okay. But you get that this is still a stalemate, right? You’re just giving Burnie another body to shoot.”

“No, I --” Burnie began, then paused. He was clearly at the end of his rope, and even in this darkness Geoff could see that plain as day. He had to stand there and figure out which friends to kill, which royally sucked ass to the point that Geoff knew he probably wouldn’t work up the nerve to do it, even with his loyalty to Hullum.

Inside, Matt seemed to think the same, and outstretched his hand. He rested his finger over the intercom, and it crackled to life out in the yard. For a moment, he prepared himself to speak, and everyone went still.

“I’ll be right out.” He said finally, and removed his finger from the button. Geoff sighed so loud Jeremy heard it in his earpiece. Burnie could barely fight back a smile as he beamed at his friends in surprise and relief as they all lowered their weapons. They would talk to Matt after all. They would get peace.

Someone grabbed Jeremy so fast it made his head spin, and his gun clattered to the floor. He yelled, and a hand was brought over his mouth as Geoff’s relieved expression faltered.

“No!” Jack yelled, and the guard that Matt had sent off earlier grabbed him as well. He made a move with his knife, but the guard twisted his wrist, and he cried out as the blade fell to the wayside.

“What are you doing?” Geoff asked, unnerved, and Burnie faltered.

“I’m not -- what are you talking about?” He responded weakly, and everyone on Geoff’s side shared an ominous look.

“Jack!” Jeremy cried out as the other man was punched in the gut.

“What are you doing!?” Ray asked furiously, and Joel and Gus exchanged a nervous glance.

“Nothing! What the hell is going on?” Gus asked, and as Jeremy heard it over the security system, he saw the answer round the corner.

Matt Hullum stared him down, his expression as blank as he could manage, but there was no mistaking that sad little look in his eye. He made a motion to the security guards, and they each clasped their hands over Jack and Jeremy’s mouths.

“Send out the last defense.” He said, and a thin figure appeared next to him. “Demarais, walk with me.”

The guards marched Jack and Jeremy down the hallway and on the way out, with the pair powerless to stop them. In the distance, they heard a multitude of footsteps, the so-called last defense that had been lying in wait all this time.

“Jack? Jeremy? Hello?” Geoff asked, and looked at Burnie with murder in his eyes. “They’ve gone dark. If you’ve hurt them --”

“We didn’t hurt them, this is some kind of mistake.” Jon cut in. “Everything’s fine, stay calm.”

“Bullshit!” Ryan yelled. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Joel yelled back, and Ryan lifted his gun.

“Whoa, weapons down! Weapons back down!” Burnie cried out in alarm, but suddenly, they all heard the thrum of distant footsteps.

“What in the unholy fuck is that?” Lindsay muttered, and suddenly, terribly, they all found out. Soldiers rushed in from all sides, and it was clear that Matt had known they would be unprepared and scrambling.

“Fuck! Again with this shit?” Geoff swore as everyone took an instinctive step towards the nearest troops as they tried to ready their weapons. “Wait, wait, don’t get separated!”

He tried to pull out his gun, but a sudden scream made him fumble, and he turned to see one man grab Elyse by the arm. James swore as he tried to come between the man and his wife, and Bruce practically clambered over the pair in attempt to tackle him down, but that one second of distraction was enough. The entirety of Funhaus was quickly surrounded, guns jammed in their faces in one swift move.

“No -- no!” Michael yelled as his gun was pulled from him and flung across the ground and out of reach. He looked at the large soldier in front of him, entirely out of options, and held up his fists, though it was clearly a battle he would not win.

“Honey!” Lindsay yelled as she tried to reach out to him, but she was quickly surrounded by guns just as Funhaus was.

“Run!” Ray yelled, but he, Gavin, and Tina barely got ten feet away before soldiers blocked them in a neat line, and all held up grenades ready to be thrown.

“God no.” Ryan whispered, and Geoff turned to see him stood there with none other than Tyler Coe. And though the man Matt sent wore a clearly doubtful expression, they all knew he would kill Ryan if he really had to. That moment of distraction was enough to get a soldier close to Geoff, and he positioned the barrel of his gun directly between the eyes.

Long story short, they were all fucked. Everyone knew it, from the soldiers to the captives to Burnie’s team, who’d all stood awkwardly aside as Matt’s final move came into play. 

And speak of the devil.


	21. Chapter 21

Matt emerged from the ash and smoke like a ghost, a haunting visage, with Jeremy and Jack behind him. They were led out forcibly, practically dragged, and neither were thrilled with the sight that greeted them. Hullum was in control now, and as he stepped up to the soldier than held a gun to Geoff’s head, they felt a chill deep in their bones.

“At ease, private.” He said, and though the soldier in front of Geoff lowered his gun, no others did. Matt motioned to those holding Jack and Jeremy, and they shoved the pair out of their grasp, and pulled out some police batons to discourage any movement.

Geoff stared at him coldly, and he returned the gaze. Every soldier was at a standstill, but just one simple command from Matt would kill every last one of them.

“Peace or die.” Matt mused, and shook his head. “Oh Geoff, you utter moron.”

Geoff curled up his fists, but said nothing, and Matt pressed on.

“You honestly didn’t think that I wouldn’t have Chris here tap into your earpieces the moment we spotted y’all?” He asked, and motioned to Chris Demarais, who looked haughty. “I knew every move you were going to take, I knew when you were in the building, and I knew that you were using your copy-cat.”

He turned to Jack and Jeremy, donned in matching red beards and Hawaiian shirts, and though the smoke still billowed, they could all see Jack shake with fury.

“I really would’ve loved to see what else this idiot plan had in store for me, though. I almost wish it went on longer, but you and Burnie were getting a bit too chatty.” Matt looked over to Burnie, whose expression was pained yet astute. He didn’t say a word, nor did Joel, Gus, or the two who had just dropped their weapons for an enemy.

“We’re your family.” Geoff said finally, and Matt sighed.

“Yes, you are. But that doesn’t mean an entire criminal empire should cater to our sappy-ass feelings for each other.” He explained calmly. “I love all of you, but I can’t just throw this away.”

“So talk to us. Communicate.” Geoff urged. “You’re not Heisenberg and I’m not Skyler! There’s such a thing as being rational, acting civil, not keeping massive fucking secrets because you’re afraid of some potential fallout!”

“Okay. But did you do that, or did you just kill roughly three hundred people?” Matt asked, and motioned to the literal piles of bodies in the distance.

“You dug your own grave there, Hullum. Now I’m gonna ask again, hopefully for the last time: can we make a peace accord right now and try to be friends again, or are we going to kill ourselves and anyone else we can?” Geoff asked defiantly, and in that one moment, he truly hoped Matt would at least reveal his true emotions.

No such fucking luck. He kept a hardened mask and took a deep breath as he considered his options, then gave Geoff something akin to a sad look.

“We’re never going to trust each other again -- don’t tell me we will.” He said as Geoff opened his mouth. “So long as this gang exists, it’s a liability. You’re already basically destroyed, people have noticed that the Fakes are gone. It’s time to make this final.”

“Matt --” Joel began, but Matt raised his hand, and the soldiers all looked ready to fire.

“You don’t want to do this.” Barbara said quickly, and Jeremy admired that she recognized that she’d already stuck her neck out there for the Fakes, so instead of kissing ass she was fully committing.

“No, I don’t.” Matt admitted. “I can’t act like all this family love is one-sided. But too much has happened. It’s time to move on, even if I’m doing it the hard way.”

“Wait. There’s one more thing you should consider.” Geoff said, and in front of him, the sun began to rise. “One crucial little detail that you’ve missed.”

“And what is that?” Matt asked, and Geoff grinned, and rolled up his sleeves. As hard as it had been in the dark to see just his hands, his pale, blank, tattoo-free arms were perfectly visible.

“What?” Matt mumbled, and turned to look at Jeremy. He pulled off his beard and wig, and unbuttoned his Hawaiian shirt to reveal a pillow rested between him and his full-piece suit.

“Matt.” The real Geoff greeted him easily, and next to him, Jack pulled off his beard with a murderous grin.

“Surprise, motherfucker!” Ryan yelled, and Matt and the others turned to see him pull off the skull mask, only to reveal a familiar red beard beneath it. Lindsay pulled off a curly auburn wig, and Michael took off his long red one.

Dan pulled off his riot helmet and proudly showed off the grenade he was meant to throw at Gavin, Ray, and Tina, whilst Gavin slipped out of his purple hoodie and Ray ripped off a fake nose he was already familiar with.

“Oh, thank god.” Tina exclaimed, and smiled at the real Ray, who blushed with abandon.

 

* * *

 

“Shopping montage!” Gavin shouted gleefully from behind his phone as he began the video. They were on their way to Ammu-Nation, and then the heist, but first, they needed to get some new outfits.

“We all remember what we’re doing?” Geoff asked as he, Jeremy and Ryan inspected a coat rack full of Hawaiian print shirts.

“Easy-peasy.” Ray said as he grabbed a button-down shirt. “Gav, can I borrow your glasses?”

“Yes, but I’ll be taking a fresh hoodie.” He said as he handed over the pair of golden frames and a matching pistol. “What about you Jack, you gonna buy a new skull mask?”

“Lil’ J has a stack of them.” Jack replied as he pulled on a leather jacket. “Is this murder-y enough?”

“Looks good.” Ryan nodded. “Though I’m still not exactly sure of what Geoff and Jeremy are doing. I mean, I know I’m being you, but why are you guys?”

“I’m the leader for now, I’ve got a target on my head.” Geoff said. “Even if Matt doesn’t order it, all the soldiers will aim for my ass, that’s why I’m sitting in the background until it’s safe for me to go in.”

“And even after he goes in, I’m still playing Geoff, and he’s taking Jack just because there’s an extra person and he’s pretty easy to imitate.” Jeremy added. “So I’ll pass the disguise off to Geoff in an alley or something, and when we get to Hullum he’ll be in a little less danger.”

“It would be pretty shitty if Matt decided to kill your leader and round up the rest, so I don’t think he’ll try it.” Steffie noted. “But safety first.”

“I’m pretty sure Lil’ J just wanted to work the impersonating angle as much as possible.” Michael smirked, then looked down at his baseball tee. “Should I buy a bra? I think I need tits.”

“Yes, definitely.” Lindsay said, a little too involved, and Jeremy gave her an odd look before he quickly moved on.

“Okay, let’s remember our codenames.” Jeremy called out. “Ryan, your codename is Jack. Jack, your codename is Ryan or The Vagabond.”

“I love murder and cow death.” Jack said darkly, then grinned. “Nice, I don’t even have to disguise my voice.”

“Lindsay, your codename is Michael, Michael, yours is Lindsay.” Jeremy continued, and the couple grinned. “Ray, you’re Gavin, Gav, you’re Ray.”

“Got my purple on and I’m ready to go.” Gavin beamed. “This is toppers.”

“Refrain from using made-up clearly fake British slang, Gavvers, please.” Geoff sighed. “You’re an American when you’re in that hoodie.”

“Yeah, Chris Demarais will definitely hack into your earpieces the moment the attack begins.” Matt said helpfully. “So everyone’s gotta do the voices too, and no slipping up on the codenames.”

“Bloody hell!” Ray called out, and Gavin sighed and rubbed his temples.

“You have to do it legit.” Ryan said, much to Ray’s disappointment. “If you go on and on about tea with the gov’na you’ll blow the whole operation.”

“Shite.” Ray muttered sadly, and Jeremy spoke over him.  
“Alright, alright, back to not slipping up on the codenames.” He got their attention once more. “In the beginning, I’m Lil’ J as Geoff and Geoff is just himself. When the switch happens --”

“Probably in the alley next to the barracks.” Matt supplied.

“Right. When that happens, I’m Geoff and Geoff is Lil’ J as Jack.” He said, then sighed. Fuck, that was more difficult than he thought. “Please, nobody get confused.”

“We got this.” Ryan said confidently as Michael adjusted his bra. Geoff patted down his suit for a flask, and gave Steffie a dirty look when he couldn’t find it.

“Good lord, I won’t even be drunk for this, it’s already a nightmare.” Geoff sighed, then gave Jeremy a look. “For God’s sakes Lil’ J, take off that mustache!”

“This is what you’re known for!” Jeremy said pointedly as he adjusted the fake handlebar.

“I don’t have that ridiculous mustache anymore, take it off!” Geoff yelled as Jack smiled softly and Jeremy sighed with defeat. “Good lord we are fucked.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Lindsay said, though her wig and brown leather jacket were doing a hell of a job at making them believe she was her husband. “Mogar is ready.”

“Yeah, don’t worry.” Gavin said, or was it Ray now? “Let’s do this. Let’s heist!”

 

* * *

 

The costumes looked more obvious now that the sun had risen. The smoke was clearing, the night had passed, and Jeremy was kicking off a pair of extremely high heels. None of that stopped everyone from gaping with shock and confusion, Matt especially as he looked between Jeremy and the real Geoff.

“What in the fuckarooni.” Lawrence said flatly, and James knit his brow as he attempted to comprehend this. Funhaus dropping in was certainly not part of the plan, but damn did they help -- the Fakes would probably already be dead without them, at least Jeremy and Ray would’ve been after that helicopter accident.

“See, you thought you were just playing along.” Geoff grinned mischievously at Matt. “Thought you had the upper hand. But we were always playing you. That’s the advantage of having your copy-cat plan the heist.”

Jeremy waggled his brows a bit, and Matt was still too shell-shocked, so Geoff continued, his grin gone even wider.

“And after all this time, you’re still using our friendship to your benefit; you purposely had these soldiers separate us to weaken us, and then put us in our most vulnerable positions.” He made a giant, sweeping gesture with his arm. “Michael at hand to hand combat, Jack and the newbie with something a little tougher, Ryan with Tyler Coe.”

At the mention of his name, Tyler slouched and looked a little desolate. If he was doubtful before, now he just looked guilty. It seemed he truly regretted every moment he’d spent at odds with his old friend, something Ryan recognized and softly accepted.

“But now we’re all switched up. You’ve got Lindsay, the queen of hand to hand, Ryan here ready to slaughter all these goons with a smile on his face --” The soldiers around them paled as Ryan bore a toothy grin.

“Not to mention our mate Dan here holding a grenade.” Gavin boasted, and Dan waved. “You think he won’t blow up every soldier he can for us?”

“Without hesitation.” Dan said, and the soldiers around him looked at each other warily.

“Get what we’re saying, Hullum?” Ray asked. “You’re fucked.”

“Oooooh shit.” Trevor said somewhere in the distance, and over the earpieces the crew heard the faint sound of he and Matt high-fiving.

“They will take down this last wave of soldiers in a heartbeat.” Joel mused. “And maybe they won’t all survive, but we sure as hell won’t.”

“You certainly won’t have the greatest legacy, either.” Michael said smugly. “Made a lot of dick moves recently. Meanwhile we’ve got minions singing our names.”

“Do we have to be minions?” Kdin groaned.

“Shut up, I’m gloating.” Geoff said, then looked to Matt. “Your life for our negotiation. What do ya say?”

Matt stared at him, understanding but still shocked. It was a hell of a lot to process, after all. Jeremy looked around to see the rest attempting to do the same; Burnie had his mouth hung open whilst Jon had his head in his hands, Gus had his eyes scrunched up as he studied the disguises, Barb and Aaron pointed to Michael’s chest and whispered to themselves while Andy could only rub his temples and ask Demarais for an aspirin.

Finally, Matt cleared his throat, and everyone turned to see him speak.

“Is that . . .” He began slowly. “Is that a fat suit?”

Geoff looked down to the pillow he’d used to represent Jack’s gut, then looked back up with a wry grin and nodded. Matt giggled for a moment, and Geoff, despite himself, burst into laughter, and Matt quickly followed.

“A fat suit!” Matt howled, and Geoff wiped tears from his eyes as he tried to control himself. The rest of the crew looked around for a moment before Ryan began to chuckle, and Gavin soon followed with a series of squeaks.

“Okay, okay.” Jack tried to interrupt, but Geoff only laughed harder, and Burnie joined in.

“Did you do the voice, too?” He asked, and Michael snorted.

“Ooh, I’m Jack, dill holes.” Michael said in a foolishly deep voice, and Ray actually fell over laughing.

“Go Longhorns!” Lindsay attempted, though she laughed between every syllable. “Have I mentioned I’m from Austin?”

Jack accepted it with a sigh, which caused Joel to give up his usual straight-man attitude to giggle behind his hand. After a moment, Matt took a few deep breaths to calm himself, and his laughter subsided into a wide grin. Geoff too grew somber, and everyone watched the pair intently, amused as they still were.

“We’re not just gonna be best friends again over night.” Matt said as his smile faded, then shrugged. “But eventually, that would be great.”

“You’re gonna stop using us to get cash from Pacific Standard.” Geoff said, serious as the grave. “You’re not gonna go behind my back anymore.”

“Well it’s clearly not the best business move.” Matt said, and sighed as Geoff gave him a pointed look. “And it was wrong, okay? I get it, I fucked up, went a little too evil.”

“Happens to the best of us.” Peake said lightly as he ran a hand through his hair. “Is that a tooth? Gosh, I should really be more careful when I kill people, what a mess.”

“Devil man.” Ryan whispered to himself as the rest, excluding Funhaus, looked on unnerved.

“Peake.” Bruce mumbled in reverie, and Geoff looked back to Matt.

“Really though, just saying it’s all cool isn’t enough. I have actual terms.” He said, and Matt nodded understandingly. “Starting with you recognizing some new recruits.”

The crew turned to Steffie and Caleb and beamed at the pair, who both returned the expression gratefully. Just outside the tunnel where Matt and Trevor had long since sat down and were pulling grass and waiting patiently, Matt blushed and Trevor nodded proudly. From the apartment, Kdin giggled to herself. 

But no one could match the pride on Jeremy’s face as he puffed out his chest and wore a broad, well deserved smile. The biggest fanboy of them all, who started just from LARPing, then was actually captured by the people he so aspired to be, then joined them and helped them bring about peace -- in fact, he thoroughly saved their asses just now, and damn it all if he would ever let any of them live it down.

“The B-Team.” Geoff said with the voice of a proud father. “Any time Rooster Teeth wants to deal with us, you go through them.”

At this, Matt hummed uncertainly, but he wasn’t about to throw this away for something so small, so he nodded begrudgingly. 

“If you’d be so kind Geoff, I’d like to request another addition to your B-Team.” Matt said slowly. “Someone RT, someone both of us can trust.”

“As if that guy exists.” Michael scoffed. “Who works at the Rooster Teeth Syndicate that we can really trust one hundred percent? Who on earth would that even be?”

“Sup.” A voice said as a woman stepped in from the shadows.

“Oh my god!” Steffie suddenly squeaked as she had to suppress her fangirling. “It’s Mica Fucking Burton!”

Mica Fucking Burton nodded and lifted a brow, and Jeremy gasped and gave Steffie and Caleb an ‘oh my god holy shit’ type look. Geoff, Jack, and Ryan gave each other vaguely impressed looks, and Geoff nodded. Mica was an ally and a fan, and above all fiercely independent, enough that she was trustworthy beyond measure.

“That’ll work.” Geoff agreed, and Mica came to stand by him. “But there’s one other thing.”

He looked over to Lindsay and held out his hand, and Michael patted her on the back proudly. She looked to him with unrelenting affection and he returned the gaze as she stepped forward and stood next to Geoff.

“Matt, meet the boss.” He said, and Matt smiled.

“It fits.” He reached forward and shook her hand firmly. “I look forward to watching you work.”

“Are you really retiring?” Joel asked, but Geoff shook his head.

“Fuck no! But I’m an old man and I want to relax.” He said, and Gavin practically bounced on his feet.

“This is gonna be so fun!” He said, positively giddy. “Geoff’s a lad now!”

“Fuck. No.” Geoff said again, and Jack chuckled.

“Speaking of retirement.” Ray spoke up, and everyone went somber in an instant.

“Oh, right.” Gavin hung his head, and Ray gave him a soft smile.

“Don’t worry Vav, I’ll visit.” He said, and Michael snorted.

“That’ll happen.” He said, then gave Ray an earnestly sad look. “But try to text me at least once a year, okay?”

“Every April twentieth.” He vowed solemnly, and looked to Lindsay. “Try to look over his shoulder when he gets that and we’ll count it as keeping in touch.”

“Gotcha.” She said, and somehow the word managed to ooze with affection.

“We don’t need to talk.” Ryan said, and tapped his temple. “We’ve got the R and R connection.”

Ray smiled softly and moved on to Jack, who shook his hand until his whole arm was shaking.

“Civilian life, huh?” He asked quietly, and Ray gave him a thoughtful look.

“Ya know, I’ve kind of been thinking about becoming a mercenary.” He said, and glanced over to Tina, who smiled brusquely. “Think I’m cool enough for it?”

“Definitely not.” Geoff said, and Ray was finally released from Jack’s bone-crushing handshake. He stretched out his arms. “Come here, son.”

Ray accepted the rare hug and was quickly crushed by a gent once more. They stood there a moment, then Geoff pulled back but left both hands on his shoulders.

“I’m sad to see you go. But I am fucking ecstatic to see you get a chance at happiness.” He grinned. “I’m so happy and I’m so proud of you. Always will be, got it?”

“Got it.” Ray said, and Geoff ruffled up his hair. He swatted him away, not unhappily, and stepped over to Jeremy.

“It’s been amazing meeting you.” Jeremy said. “I was such a fan.”

“Gee, were you? Couldn’t tell.” Ray rolled his eyes. “But there’s an issue here, Lil’ J.”

Jeremy knit his brows, but the rest of the group didn’t seem phased.

“I’m leaving without a replacement.” He said, and Jeremy’s eyes went wide as Jack gave him an encouraging look.

“What -- you mean -- really?” He asked with all his breath drawn, and Geoff nodded.

“Welcome to the crew, kiddo.” Geoff said, and Matt gasped into the earpieces.

“Jerem!” He yelled, and Jeremy grinned ear to ear.

“I know!” He yelled back. “Best day ever!”

“Until the hazing begins.” Michael snickered. “You’re fucked then, Lil’ J.”

“I’m so excited! Holy shit, you guys can hurt me all you want.” Jeremy said, and Jack groaned.

“Why are we all awful all the time?” He sighed, and Peake nodded sympathetically.

“Everyone else, see you fuckers around.” Ray said, and did some finger-guns at Matt Hullum, who sighed but accepted it. Barb rushed over and they shared a high-five, then she squeezed him into another hug.

“I’m so glad I didn’t shoot you.” She said, and Gavin looked offended in the background.

“Oi! That’s because you shot me!” He shouted, and Barb waved him off.

“Shut up, I already apologized.” She laughed, and he dramatically crossed his arms and acted as though it were the most painful thing on earth.

“Hey, fucker.” Ray called out, and Joel went frigid as they all observed the interaction. Ray looked cross, but not infinitely angry. “You did what everyone wanted to do. It sucked and we’re not gonna be besties overnight, just like Geoff and Matt, but I get it. I really do.”

Joel sighed with relief, though his self-deprecating look told them all that he felt he deserved far more.

“Let’s work on it, then.” He said. “Let me give you a ride home.”

“He’s got one.” Tina said with a cheeky smile, and the pair took off arm in arm.

“Peace out, jabronis!” He called out faintly from the distance as he finally departed. Ray was free.

“So, drinks?” Geoff asked, and Gus nodded. “Drinks, Funhaus?”

“Sure.” Elyse agreed. “Burnie, Jon, drinks?”

“We can do drinks.” Burnie nodded and checked his watch. “No meetings this morning, I’m good for a beer.”

“We could use a ride.” Joel said pointedly as everyone looked around at the piles of corpses and twisted chunks of metal from various planes and one very damaged limousine.

“I can see if the tank’s still got any juice.” Lindsay suggested. An explosion sounded somewhere in the distance. “Never mind.”

“I’m so jealous.” Michael muttered. “At least fake me got to ride in it.”

“You’re jealous? Jack got to spray a bunch of people with hazardous chemicals!” Ryan sulked.

“Boo-hoo, Ryan got to fly a cool-ass plane half the night.” Jack mocked. “Damn, I wish that was me. I would’ve done a better job, too.”

“Solid burn!” Bruce cheered.

“Save it for the bar, guys.” Gus said. “Will a police procession be a decent ride?”

“Hell yeah it will.” Geoff said. “We gotta pick up two guys in the tunnel though.”

“Aw.” Kdin mumbled from the apartment, and Elyse cooed.

“Alright, two in a tunnel, one in a shitty apartment.” Geoff settled. “Let’s get out of this bloodbath though, for the love of God.”

“Agreed.” Matt said, and they all walked over to Gus’ squad cars and filed in; Funhaus, the miscellaneous Rooster Teeth members, and finally, the Fakes. When only Geoff and Matt remained as Michael went to sit in the back next to Lindsay, he turned to the pair as Jeremy watched from the passenger seat.

“This went better than expected.” Michael said breezily. “Just so ya know boss, I really would’ve died for the cause if things went south.”

“I know you would.” Geoff replied. “For all your back talk, you’re actually a semi-competent member of this team.”

Michael rolled his eyes and Geoff gave him a knowing look. Okay, so he was one of his favorites. Maybe that didn’t count for much given the fact that everyone in the crew was his favorite, but still. It gave Jeremy a warm and fuzzy feeling that he could enjoy for awhile to come.

“Getting in, team-mate?” He asked from the car with a smile, and it was now Lindsay’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” Michael waved his hand. “Don’t go thinking we’re best friends now. Or that I’m gonna give you an autograph.”

“But Gavin gave me one!” Jeremy protested as Michael climbed in, and Geoff shut the door behind him.

“Can’t wait to hear that for the rest of my life.” Geoff griped, but Matt only raised a brow.

“You are such a dad.” He said, and Geoff punched him in the arm. “Let’s go get a drink.”

“You’re buying, pal.” Geoff said, and the pair walked to another car. The sun rose further in the sky, the sirens blasted (with some overenthusiastic encouragement from Bruce and Lawrence), and much to everyone’s surprise, they actually got a happy ending.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally done! hope you all enjoyed. also "'Peace out, jabronis!' He called out faintly from the distance as he finally departed. Ray was free." is the best writing i've ever done and the greatest line of my fanfic career tbh. real proud of that one


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